


Brotherhood

by EvanlynDurin00



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Adopted Children, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Aramis is Hispanic, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Fluff without Plot, Gen, How Do I Tag, Porthos is American, The boys are siblings, d'Artagnan and Athos are French
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:06:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 36
Words: 88,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22772254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvanlynDurin00/pseuds/EvanlynDurin00
Summary: A wise man once said: "Family doesn't end in blood, but it doesn't start there either. Family cares about you. Not what you can do for them. Family is there. Through the good, the bad, all of it. They've got your back, even when it hurts. That's family."These four boys might be adopted, but they're brothers. They're a family in all but blood. They're the definition of brotherhood.
Comments: 12
Kudos: 58





	1. Brother, let me be your shelter.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the very first fanfic I ever wrote for this fandom. I originally only posted it on Fanfiction.net but someone recommended I also post it on AO3, so here we are. I hope you enjoy this story!

Athos sat down at his desk and put his homework in front of him. He had been putting it off for weeks and tonight he had finally realised he had to do something about it. He had just started on English when Aramis and Porthos stormed into the room. 

Athos sighed in exasperation. He loved his younger brothers but sometimes they annoyed him to no end. Like now for example. Aramis skidded to a halt at his side and began to ramble in half English and half Spanish. Neither Athos or Porthos understood him so Athos put his hand over Aramis’ mouth and looked at Porthos.

‘Explain. What is so important?’

The twelve-year-old looked at the door before looking back at Athos.

‘Someone, I don’t know who, just called and asked for dad. So, I gave him the phone and went to play with Aramis. Suddenly we heard dad shouting and he sounded very angry. When he stopped, I went to look and he was crying. Well, not actually crying but there were tears.’

Athos frowned and pulled his hand from Aramis’ mouth. In the five years that he had known his dad, he had never seen him cry.

‘Can you talk to him?’ Aramis asked. ‘I don’t want him to be sad.’

Athos sighed and stood up. He didn’t exactly look forward to confronting his dad but someone had to do it. He went downstairs and into the kitchen, where his dad was sitting with his head in his hands.

‘Hey dad,’ He said.

Treville sighed and looked up. 

‘Hey Athos. I presume you’re here on behalf of your brothers? I’m sorry if I scared any of you. I lost my control for a minute, that’s all.’

Athos nodded in understanding. 

‘What happened?’

Treville stood up. 

‘Do you remember my friend Alexandre?’

‘You mean the man you used to work with? Didn’t he move or something four years ago?’

‘Yes, and I haven’t heard from awhile. I assumed there was a reason for it. But I just got a call from CPS about a boy they have recently removed from his foster home. Apparently, they have never bothered to look in his files and have only just found out that I’m listed as an emergency contact.’

Athos frowned. ‘What does have that have to do with Alexandre?’ 

‘He and his wife, Marie, moved to France four years ago, where their son was born. Sadly, Marie died two years ago. Alexandre moved back to the United States with his son. I just found out that he died almost a year ago. Leaving his son an orphan. It seems, Alexandre wanted me to take care of his son in case something happened to him and Marie. But since nobody told me about their deaths until now, the boy was in a foster home. The orphanage where he is staying wants me to come over.’

Suddenly Porthos and Aramis stormed in. 

‘When are we going?’ Aramis asked.  
******

Treville parked his car and looked at the orphanage. It didn’t look very child friendly and certainly was very different from the orphanage he had adopted Athos, Porthos and Aramis from. 

He got out of the car and his sons did the same. When they entered the building, a very strict woman directed them to the meeting room. On the couch sat a very timid looking boy with black hair and chocolate brown eyes. Next to him sat an intimidating woman with an annoyed look on her face. She stood up and extended a hand to Treville, which he took.

‘You must be mister Treville. I’m glad you could come on such a short notice.’  
Treville forced a polite smile. He already didn’t like this woman, she seemed too stuck up. The woman turned her eyes to his sons.

‘I assume these are your sons?’

‘Yes, we are,’ Aramis piped up. ‘Dad adopted us five years ago.’

The woman gave him such a disapproving glare that Aramis recoiled slightly and hid behind Porthos. Athos noticed and stood in front of both his brothers. Treville nodded towards the boy on the couch.

‘How about we step outside for a minute and you tell me more about the boy. My sons can stay with him. They will be very careful.’

‘Of course. Although I doubt boys are capable of being careful.’

Athos scowled and Treville quickly escorted the woman out of the room.

‘What a witch!’ Porthos all but growled. 

‘You’re telling me.’ Athos said.

Aramis peeked out behind his brothers and looked at the boy on the couch. The toddler had pulled his knees up and wrapped his arms around them, his eyes staring straight ahead. Aramis walked up to him and smiled friendly.

‘Hello, I’m Aramis. What’s your name?’

The boy didn’t say anything, in fact he didn’t even blink. Aramis looked back at his brothers, worry shining in his eyes.

‘What’s wrong with him?’

Porthos shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Maybe he doesn’t know how to talk.’

Athos looked at the toddler. He noticed the boy was trembling slightly. Suddenly their dad entered the room, alone. He looked sad. Aramis ran up to him.

‘Dad, is there something wrong with the boy?’ 

Treville sighed.

‘I’m afraid there is. He has seen some very scary things and he had some mean foster parents.’

Treville continued to talk but Athos didn’t hear him. He looked at the little boy again and felt himself unexplainably drawn to the toddler. Athos walked over and sat down next to the boy. He noticed that the toddler didn’t even flinch. Suddenly, he was reminded of Thomas, who would always be like this after a nightmare. No one could reach him, except for Athos. He thought deeply. His dad said that the boy was born in France and had lived there for two years. Perhaps his parents had spoken French with him, just like his parent did with him and Thomas. He took the toddler’s hands and softly stroke them.

‘Bonjour. Je m’appelle Athos. Comment tu t’appelles?’

To his surprise, a shock went through the boy and he looked at Athos.

‘Je m’appelle d’Artagnan.’ 

The boy spoke so soft that Athos could barely hear it, but he heard it nonetheless. D’Artagnan’s eyes were focussed on him, filled with sadness, fear and a spark of hope.

‘Tu parles Anglais?’ 

Athos barely noticed that his father and brothers were staring at him. He was completely focussed on the boy.

‘Oui. Mais Français est moins effrayant.’ 

Athos sighed. ‘I know it’s less scary but you’re in America. So, it’s important that you speak English.’

Treville walked up to them and crouched in front of d’Artagnan. 

‘Hey d’Artagnan. I know that you don’t know me but I was a friend of your daddy.’

He was met with an intense and scrutinizing stare. 

‘You are mister Treville, right? Papa promised that you would be my new father if something happened to him and maman.’ 

‘Yes, I’m mister Treville. If you want, I can be your new daddy. I’ll take care of you and you’ll have three older brothers to play with.’

Athos looked over at his brothers and saw Aramis’ eyes widen with happiness. 

‘Does that mean we’re adopting him?’

Treville looked at d’Artagnan. 

‘What do you say, d’Artagnan? Do you want us to adopt you?’

D’Artagnan nodded and latched onto Treville. ‘Yes, please.’ 

Aramis started to dance around the room. 

‘I’m gonna be a big brother!’


	2. Footballs & fights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ages: Athos is 14, Porthos 12, Aramis 10 and d'Artagnan is 4.

Treville was busy cooking dinner when he heard a lot of noise coming from the living room. Athos, who was setting the table, looked at his dad and smiled.

‘I’ll take care of it. I’m almost done anyway.’

The moment Athos entered the living room, Aramis dove behind him, using him as a shield. 

‘What’s going on?’

‘You have to protect me, Athos! Porthos is trying to kill me!’

‘You know you deserve it!’ Porthos shouted as he stormed towards his brothers.

Athos held his hands up and stood between his brothers.

‘Porthos, calm down. Tell me what happened.’

‘Aramis stole my football and he refuses to give it back!’

‘That’s because I don’t have your stupid ball!’

‘Liar!’

Porthos tried to get pas Athos, but the fourteen-year-old pushed him back. 

‘Calm down, Porthos. Let Aramis tell his side of the story.’

Porthos scowled but obeyed. Athos turned towards his second youngest brother. 

‘Aramis, did you take Porthos’ ball?’

‘No! I didn’t even go near it, let alone touch it. I walked into our room and suddenly Porthos started to shout at me, telling me to give his ball back. When I said I didn’t have it, he said he was going to kill me.’

Athos sighed. 

‘Porthos, are you sure you didn’t lose it?’

Porthos simply stared at him.

‘Okay, stupid question.’ 

Suddenly, Porthos darted past him and tackled Aramis. Athos was about to interrupt when he saw d’Artagnan standing in the doorway, his small hands behind his back. His brown eyes shone with fear. The boy came to live with them two months ago and had yet to get used to all the rough housing and shouting. Of course, Porthos’ anger problems didn’t help. Deciding Aramis could defend himself for a few minutes, Athos walked over and kneeled down in front of his youngest brother.

‘Hey d’Art, what’s wrong?’

He heard the little boy mumble something.

‘Could you repeat that a little louder?’

‘I’m sorry.’ D’Artagnan mumbled.

Athos frowned. ‘What are you apologizing for? You didn’t do anything wrong.’

Tears pooled in d’Artagnan’s eyes. 

‘Yes, I did. I made Porthos angry.’

Realisation dawned on Athos.

‘You took Porthos’ ball, didn’t you?’

D’Artagnan nodded and showed the ball he had been hiding behind his back. His eyes widened when he saw Porthos appear behind Athos, looking very angry.

‘You stole my ball!’ He roared, making Athos jump and turn around.

Before Athos could stop him, Porthos pounced on d’Artagnan, making the boy scream in fear. Treville stormed into the room when he heard the scream, just in time to see his youngest run upstairs and Athos and Aramis tackling Porthos.

‘What the heck is going on here?!’

The three boys froze and looked at their father.

‘Athos, I though you said you would take care of it?’

‘I was taking care of it! I just didn’t expect Porthos to attack d’Artagnan!’

Treville glared at Porthos, who stared at the ground.

‘Care to explain, son?’

‘The pup stole my ball.’

‘Have you asked him why? Or explained why it means so much to you?’

‘No. I lost control. I’m sorry, dad.’

Treville sighed. 

‘It’s not me you should apologize to. I want you to look for your brother and make it up. You can join us at dinner when you have done that.’

Porthos nodded, grabbed his ball and jogged upstairs. He had already checked the bathroom and the closet, when he suddenly heard soft crying from Athos’ and d’Artagnan’s bedroom. He opened the door and looked inside. It always amazed him how tidy this room was. If only he and Aramis were capable of keeping their room like this. 

He was hit by a wave of guilt when he saw the shaking form of d’Artagnan on Athos’ bed. He carefully sat down on the side of the bed and placed his hand on the toddler’s shoulder.

‘Hey pup. I’m sorry I scared you that bad. I shouldn’t have lost my control like that.’

D’Artagnan turned around and looked at him with red-rimmed eyes. 

‘I’m sorry I stole your ball. I didn’t mean to, I swear.’

‘It’s not your fault. I never told you why that ball is so important to me. You see, my mom gave it to me a few weeks before she died. It’s the only thing I have left of her.’

D’Artagnan shot up and wrapped his arms around Porthos.

‘I’m really sorry. I’ll never touch your ball again.’ 

Porthos chuckled and hugged his youngest brother to his chest. When the toddler finally let go, Porthos looked at him.

‘Pup, before we go downstairs for dinner, I need to ask you one thing. Why did you take my ball?’

To his shock, tears appeared in d’Artagnan’s eyes again.

‘I wanted to ask if you wanted to play with me. My papa used to do that with me.’

Porthos sighed and simply hugged his brother again. When d’Artagnan had calmed down, Porthos placed him on his hip and walked downstairs, into the kitchen. Treville smiled proudly at him. 

Halfway through dinner, Porthos looked at Athos and Aramis.

‘I claim the pup tomorrow. We’re going to play with my ball.’


	3. Lullaby for a stormy night.

Aramis sighed and turned onto his other side. According to the alarm clock, he had been trying to fall asleep for 30 minutes now. There was something bothering him but he couldn’t figure out what it was. Outside, he could hear the thunder and he smiled. He used to be afraid of the thunder, but not anymore. No, that wasn’t what bothered him, he was certain of that. 

At some point, he had to use the bathroom, so he got out of bed. Just as he had finished washing his hands, he could hear the thunder booming extremely loud, making him flinch. Suddenly, he heard a small whimper. Aramis opened the door and looked inside Athos’ and d’Artagnan’s room. He saw d’Artagnan curled up under the blankets, shaking with fear. He quickly ran over to his little brother’s bed. 

‘Hey pup. What’s wrong?’

D’Artagnan poked his head out from under the blankets, his eyes wide with fear and tears streaming down his face. Another thunder could be heard and he dove back under the blankets. Understanding dawned on Aramis. His little brother was scared of thunderstorms. For a moment, he wondered if he should get Athos but when he heard d’Artagnan sobbing, he crawled next to the toddler. 

‘It’s okay, pup. I’m here.’

Aramis wriggled under the blankets and wrapped his arms around his brother. When a flash of lightning lit up the room, d’Artagnan buried his head in Aramis’ chest, shaking with fear. Aramis stroke the boy’s hair, thinking of something to distract his brother. Suddenly, he remembered the night he overcame his fear of thunderstorms. He had crawled into Porthos’ bed and the older boy had tried everything he could to calm down Aramis. Finally, Porthos had resorted to singing a song. Though Porthos wasn’t a great singer, the song had soothed Aramis. 

Aramis decided that he would try the same approach. But not an English song. Athos had told him a few weeks ago that for some reason, foreign languages calmed d’Artagnan down. Nobody knew why, not even d’Artagnan himself but it worked. Aramis smiled when he remembered a song Porthos had asked him to translate for his Spanish homework. 

‘Tengo la camisa negra. Hoy mi amor esta de luto. Hoy tengo en alma una pena. Y es por culpa de tu embrujo.’ 

He noticed d’Artagnan stopped shaking and was focusing on him. Good, that meant it was working. 

‘Hoy sé que tú ya no me quieres. Y eso es lo que más me hiere. Que tengo la camisa negra. Y una pena que me duele.’

Aramis smiled down at d’Artagnan, who had relaxed in his embrace. He rubbed the boy’s back and hugged him close. 

‘Thank you,’ d’Artagnan whispered. 

‘No need to thank me, pup. You’re my little brother, it’s my job to look after you. But why didn’t you come to me or Athos and Porthos?’

D’Artagnan snivelled a little. 

‘I thought you wouldn’t want me if you knew I was scared. In my old home, I got punished when I was scared.’

‘Oh pup. We don’t mind if you’re scared. I used to be scared of the thunder too, you know. But Porthos helped me not to be, just like I did with you.’

Expressive brown eyes looked up at him. 

‘Really?’

Aramis smiled encouragingly. 

‘Really. I promise.’

Suddenly, the door opened and Athos and Porthos stormed in.

‘Aramis? Are you here?’

Aramis poked his head out and grinned at his older brothers. 

‘I’m here. What’s wrong?’

Porthos glared at him. 

‘You scared the crap out of us, that’s what’s wrong. Why aren’t you in bed?’

‘Because I had to comfort the pup. He was scared of the thunder.’

Porthos’ gaze softened. He and Athos walked over to the bed. D’Artagnan peeked out from under the blankets and his older brothers sighed when they saw the tear tracks. 

‘Hey d’Art?’ Athos asked. ‘Why are you scared of the thunder?’

Fresh tears pooled in the boy’s eyes and suddenly his body was trembling with sobs. Aramis hugged d’Artagnan and rubbed his back again but it didn’t help. The little boy kept crying inconsolably. Eventually, Athos took d’Artagnan from Aramis and held him tightly. 

‘Sssh, d’Artagnan, tu es en sécurité. Qu’est-ce qui ne va pas?’

‘Mon papa,’ The little boy cried. ‘Je veux mon papa.’ 

Athos winced. That explained why the boy was so scared of thunderstorms. He had lost his father during a thunderstorm. Out of nowhere, Aramis appeared behind d’Artagnan, rubbing the boy’s back. 

‘We’re here, hermanito. Your brothers are here.’

Porthos sat down next to Athos, laying an arm on d’Artagnan’s shoulder. 

‘And we’re not going anywhere. You’re safe with us.’

Finally, d’Artagnan stopped crying. His eyes were incredibly sad. Aramis noticed and pulled them all in a group hug. When they let go, d’Artagnan leaned against Athos. 

‘Can I sleep with you tonight?’  
*****

When Treville got home, he went upstairs to check on his sons. He checked Porthos’ and Aramis’ room first, becoming worried when he found the room to be empty. He quickly walked to Athos’ and d’Artagnan’s room and smiled at the sight that met him. 

Athos’ and d’Artagnan’s beds had been pushed together, with his four boys sharing the big bed they had created. Athos and Porthos were on the outer sides, with Aramis and d’Artagnan sleeping in the middle. Aramis had curled himself around his little brother, with Porthos wrapped around him and Athos wrapped around d’Artagnan from the other side. All of them looked warm and content. 

Treville nodded to himself and closed the door again. He knew his sons would always look after each other. They truly were the definition of brotherhood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sssh, d’Artagnan, tu es en sécurité. Qu’est-ce qui ne va pas?= Sssh, d'Artagnan, you're safe. What's wrong?  
> Mon papa. Je veux mon papa.= My daddy. I want my daddy.   
> Hermanito= little brother.


	4. Mi familia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story of how Aramis got adopted by Treville.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Age: Aramis is 5.

Treville looked at Alexa, who smiled at him excitedly. 

‘Can you believe it, Jean? We’re finally going to have a child.’

Treville took his wife’s hand and held it lightly. They had been trying to get a child for years but for some reason, they were never blessed with one. One day, his friend and protégé Alexandre suggested they’d adopt a child. After a long and tiring process, they were finally able to adopt one. Neither of them could have been more excited. 

After a few more minutes of waiting, Mrs. Hunter entered with a small boy hiding behind her. When he noticed Alexa and Treville, he ran up to them and smiled charmingly. 

‘Hello Mr. and Mrs. Treville.’

‘Hi Aramis,’ Alexa said. ‘Are you ready to come home with us?’

The little boy beamed so much that he seemed to light up the entire room. He jumped up and down, clapping his hands. 

‘Sí, sí! Are we going now? Will you really be my new mommy and daddy?’

Treville chuckled. 

‘The answer is yes, buddy. For both of your questions.’

Aramis danced around the room, giving them both a big hug and then went into the hallway to grab his bags and coat. Mrs. Hunter smiled at the couple. 

‘You have no idea how happy I am. Aramis is such a sweet boy and he really deserves good parents. Most people want to adopt him, until they discover he speaks much better Spanish than English.’

‘I couldn’t care less about that,’ Alexa said. ‘I’ve always wanted to raise my children bilingual. And it’s always good for children to speak multiple languages.’

‘I’m glad to hear you think of it like that. I can’t tell you how much people look at the matter differently.’

Both Treville and his wife scowled at that. Aramis had been born into a Spanish speaking family, of course speaking Spanish was easier for the boy. Alexa had seen it as a reason to teach herself and Treville Spanish. 

Aramis re-appeared in the room, wearing his coat and carrying a bag in each hand. Treville and his wife stood up and said their goodbyes to Mrs. Hunter. Then, Treville took the bags from Aramis and Alexa lifted the boy up in her arms. He waved happily at Mrs. Hunter before laying his head on Alexa’s shoulder. 

*****  
1 month later

Treville felt himself going numb as he watched the casket being lowered into the ground. He would never see his beautiful wife again. Never hear her infectious laugh again. He had loved her from the moment he first met her. They had been high-school sweethearts and he had asked her to marry him when they were only twenty years old. People had said they were too young, but he had known she was the one, his soulmate. And she had thought the same about him. 

But now she was gone. Dead, because some stupid idiot thought it was smart to drive while drunk. The drunk had survived but his sweet Alexa hadn’t. Treville clenched his fists as he thought about it again. The world was just unfair. Why didn’t his Alexa get to live? She had been the most kind-hearted person on the world, who saw the good in everyone. 

Suddenly, a hand on his shoulder interrupted his thoughts. He noticed the people were moving again. The casket was in the ground. Treville turned around and found Alexandre standing in front of him. The young man’s brown eyes were filled with sadness and sympathy. 

‘I am so sorry, Captain. If anyone deserved to live for many more years, it was Alexa.’

Treville nodded, still feeling oddly numb. For some reason, he hadn’t been able to cry, or feel sadness. He had been filled with anger and now he was simply numb. Alexandre’s hand tightened. 

‘Please don’t do this, Captain. Don’t shut the world out. Don’t drown your sorrow in alcohol. You can’t do that.’

‘Why not?’ Treville saw Alexandre flinch slightly at the harsh tone. ‘Why can’t I shut the world out? Why can’t I drown my sorrows? I’m alone now, completely alone!’

Alexandre’s eyes blazed with fierceness and he stood his ground. 

‘You can’t because you have a son to think about! Aramis needs you, he needs his father! You can’t leave the boy to fend for himself! Alexa would never forgive you! Don’t you think she would want you to raise your child?’

The man’s words shocked Treville out of his numbness. He had forgotten about their son! 

Alexandre smiled sadly when he saw that he had gotten through to his friend and mentor. 

‘I have seen too many men being ruined by drowning their sorrows. I won’t allow you to do that to yourself or your son. You’re better than that, Jean.’

Suddenly, Marie, Alexandre’s wife, appeared next to them. Aramis was in her arms. She smiled sadly at both men and handed Treville his son. 

Aramis looked up at his father. His eyes were red and his was biting on his bottom lip in an effort not to cry. Treville felt his heart clench. 

‘I’m trying to be strong, daddy.’ Aramis whispered. ‘I’m trying but I can’t. I want to cry because I miss mommy, but I don’t want you to be angry with me.’

‘Why would I be angry with you?’

‘Because I haven’t seen you cry. I didn’t know if I was allowed to cry if you weren’t.’ 

Treville hugged his son and carded a hand through the boy’s dark hair. 

‘You can cry, Aramis. It’s okay to cry.’

The moment Aramis finally let go, tears appeared in Treville’s eyes as well. The sadness that hadn’t been there before, was now filling his entire body. He held his son and grieved. 

Alexandre and Marie left them alone for now, knowing that father and son needed to grieve together. Just as they would heal together.


	5. Everyone deserves a family.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story of how Aramis decided Porthos was going to be adopted and Treville simply obeyed instructions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ages: Porthos is 7 and Aramis 5.   
> This takes place roughly a month or so after the ending of the last chapter.

Treville opened the front door, just as Aramis stormed inside. The five-year-old was bouncing up and down, obviously enthusiastic about something. Treville helped his son out of his coat and the boy took off towards the living room, diving onto the couch. 

‘What has gotten you so excited?’ Treville laughed. 

‘I learned something new at school today. But I have to ask you a question first.’

Treville sat down next to the bouncing boy. 

‘Go ahead, ask your question.’

‘Do you think everyone deserves a family?’

‘Of course.’

‘Good. I think so too. You see, there’s this boy in school. He’s older than me but I see him a lot on the playground. His mommy died and he said he doesn’t have a daddy. So now he lives in the orphanage.’

‘That’s really sad. But what does that have to do with what you learned at school today?’

‘Well, I learned that every kid needs a big brother. I found one, I just need you to adopt him.’

Treville simply stared at his son. He didn’t know if he could just adopt another boy. It was something he had planned with his wife at the time. He knew she had wanted more than one child and so did he. But that was when they were planning their future together. Now that she wasn’t with him anymore, he wasn’t sure if he was able to raise more than one child. 

His thoughts were interrupted when Aramis pulled on his sleeve, causing him to look down. He was met with big pleading puppy eyes. 

‘He really needs a family, daddy. I’m the only person he likes and I think he could be happy here. You’re the best daddy in the whole world.’

Treville sighed. 

‘I’ll think about it. I want to meet the boy first.’

*****

A few weeks later found Treville sitting in the office of Mrs. Hunter, filling out the forms and signing papers. 

‘You really amaze me, Mr. Treville. Not many single parents come here to adopt a child when they already have one.’

Treville laughed. 

‘Believe me, Mrs. Hunter. That decision was never up to me. Aramis wanted me to adopt Porthos so here I am.’

‘Yes, that’s the other thing I’m surprised about. Out of all children, he chooses Porthos. Don’t get me wrong, I think every child who lives here deserves a good home with loving parents. But Porthos has anger issues and is rude to practically everyone. Yet, Aramis wants him as an older brother.’

‘I suppose that’s the miracle we call Aramis. He sees the good in everyone and he has taking a liking to Porthos. And it’s the other way around as well. Porthos is the only kid who hasn’t made fun of Aramis’ Spanish accent. He’s rather protective of Aramis, to be honest.’

Mrs. Hunter leaned forward and looked at him with a serious expression. 

‘Are you sure you’re ready for this, Mr. Treville? Porthos is quite a handful and I don’t want you to send him back. I don’t think it would do him any good.’

‘I’m absolutely sure. Aramis has picked Porthos as his older brother and from what I’ve learned, Porthos is a good kid. He just needs a stable home and a loving family. And I’m planning to give him just that.’

Mrs. Hunter nodded, glad with the answer. She considered it her job to make sure all the children in the orphanage ended up in a good home. And she was certain Treville would take good care of Porthos, just as he did with Aramis. 

When Treville finished signing the papers, Porthos and Aramis appeared in the room. Porthos was carrying a single bag and wearing a well-worn coat that was too big on him. He had one arm wrapped protective around Aramis and scrutinized Treville, like he had done every previous time they had met. 

‘Are you ready to come home with us, Porthos?’

‘I guess so.’

*****

Two weeks later

Porthos was kicking his legs forward angrily. He was sitting in the principal’s office, waiting for his dad to come. The principal looked as angry as Porthos felt, which he didn’t think was fair. It hadn’t been his fault this time, it really hadn’t. But no one bothered to listen to him. 

It wasn’t fair. Nobody ever listened to him. The only one who did was Aramis. Porthos bit down hard on his bottom lip to stop himself from crying. Mr. Treville was probably going to send him back to the orphanage after this. But Porthos didn’t want to go back. He didn’t want to leave Aramis. He finally had a little brother, a person who understood him and listened to him. A kid who wasn’t scared of him.   
Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around in his chair and saw Treville standing in front of him. He looked angry and Porthos bit even harder on his lip. The principal stood up and extended his hand to Treville.

‘Mr. Treville. I’m sorry I had to call you while you were working.’

‘That’s not a problem. I have someone who’s filling in for me until I return. Could you tell me why I’m here?’

The principal motioned for Treville to sit and sat down himself as well. 

‘Porthos has been in a fight. He has hurt Max Brooke so bad that the poor boy had to go to the school nurse. According to Max, Porthos attacked him out of nowhere.’

Porthos’ eyes widened in disbelief. That wasn’t true at all! 

‘I’m afraid this cannot go unpunished. Max’s parents have asked me to suspend your son. Though we don’t usually do that, I think there should be an exception this time.’

Porthos hung his head in defeat. He was in trouble now. No doubt that Mr. Treville was going to send him back to the orphanage. 

‘Hold on a second,’ Treville said. ‘Do you know why Porthos attacked the other boy?’

‘Of course I do. Max told me that Porthos attacked him out of nowhere. I believe I already told you that.’

‘Yes, you told me. But I’m only hearing about Max’s side of the story. Has anyone asked Porthos what happened?’

The principal spluttered indignantly. 

‘Your son is a troublemaker and a good for nothing! He’s a bad student with behavioural problems and anger issues. Why would I ask him?’

‘Because you’re the principal of this school. It’s your job to know what happens in your school and that includes listening to all the students. You cannot be prejudiced.’

Treville then turned towards Porthos. 

‘What happened, son? Why did you hit Max?’

Porthos’ mouth opened and closed for a few seconds, without any sound coming out of it. Never before had anyone stood up for him like that and asked for his side of the story. Finally, he found his voice again. 

‘I was playing with Aramis when Max suddenly pushed him. I told him to leave us alone and then he made fun of Aramis’ accent and my mom. Then he pushed me and I lost control. I swear I didn’t mean to hurt him so bad.’

The principal opened his mouth to say something but Treville beat him to it. 

‘See, that’s a completely different side of the story. I’m sure my other son, Aramis, would be willing to testify as to who’s telling the truth. Although, I’m pretty sure I already know who has been telling the truth. Do you still have reason to punish my son?’

The principal glared at Treville but eventually admitted defeat. 

‘Alright, I will talk to Max Brooke and his parents about this. But this better does not happen again, or I will suspend your son.’

‘Oh, believe me,’ Treville said. ‘This will never happen again. Because when I get home, I will file a complaint about you and your prejudiced behaviour towards the students at this school. Have a nice day.’

With that, Treville took Porthos’ hand and left the office. When they got in the car, Aramis was already waiting in the backseat, looking extremely worried. 

‘Are you okay, Porthos? They’re not going to punish you, are they? If they do, I’ll tell them that it’s not fair.’

‘Breathe, Aramis,’ Treville laughed. ‘Porthos won’t get punished. In fact, I think the principal and that other boy will be punished.’

Aramis’ eyes lit up at the news. But he frowned when he noticed how quiet Porthos was. 

‘What’s wrong, Porthos?’

Treville turned around and looked at Porthos as well when he heard the question. Porthos stared at his feet, afraid to meet Treville’s eyes. 

‘I don’t want to go back to the orphanage,’ he mumbled. ‘I want to stay with ‘Mis.’

Treville frowned. 

‘Why on earth would I send you back? I like having you as my son and Aramis loves you as his brother.’

Porthos looked up and bit on his lip. 

‘In the other home, they send me back after I lost control. They said nobody wants a problem child like me.’

Aramis immediately shot towards his brother and hugged him. Treville placed his hand on Porthos’ shoulder. 

‘Porthos, I promise that I won’t send you back. I knew you had anger issues when I adopted you but that didn’t stop me. I’m going to help you to control your anger, not punish you for it. I only punish my sons when they deserve it. You don’t deserve a punishment.’

Porthos’ eyes lit up with hope. 

‘Do you really mean that?’

‘I really do.’

Porthos shot forward and hugged Treville. They both laughed when Aramis also joined in. When they all let go, Treville smiled at his sons. 

‘Who wants to get some ice-cream?’


	6. If I die young.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Porthos and Aramis decide they want Athos as a brother. Athos isn't sure if he wants another family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ages: Athos is 9, Porthos is 7 and Aramis is 5.

The school bell rang and Athos sighed. His classmates excitedly jumped up and all but ran outside. They couldn’t wait to get home and enjoy their weekend. Athos was the last one to leave the classroom, stalling as much as he could. When he reached the doorway, he felt a hand on his shoulder. 

‘What’s wrong, Athos? Aren’t you happy it’s finally weekend?’

Athos turned around and tried his best to smile at Miss Clare, his teacher. He liked her a lot more than his last teacher, Mrs. De Winter. Miss Clare had a nice smile that she always wore and was very sweet. Right now, concern was clear in her eyes, though she was still smiling at him. 

‘I am, Miss Clare. It’s just that I like school a lot.’

His teacher nodded, though Athos could sense she didn’t entirely believe him. She let him go though, wishing him a good weekend. Athos quickly put on his coat and shouldered his backpack. When he got outside, he noticed two boys still in the schoolyard, playing tag. He had seen those two before, they were younger than him but had recess at the same time as he did. They were always together, the very definition of inseparable. 

Tears unexpectedly burned his eyes. He remembered the times he and Thomas had been like that. The nine-year-old shook his head and wiped his eyes with his sleeve. He wasn’t going to cry, not where someone could see him. 

‘Hello!’ A voice suddenly said. 

Athos looked down and saw a small boy with dark wavy hair smiling up at him. The little boy’s face was red and he was panting slightly. 

‘Hi,’ Athos said, his voice sounding unsure. 

‘I’m Aramis. Would you like to play with us? We’re playing tag.’

The other boy appeared behind Aramis. He was rather tall, almost as tall as Athos. He had a dark skin and black curls. Though he was wearing a smile, his entire body looked ready to pounce on Athos. The boy’s eyes shone with protectiveness as he laid a hand on Aramis’ shoulder. 

‘This is my big brother, Porthos.’

Porthos nodded and Athos nodded back. He suddenly realised Aramis was expecting him to say something. 

‘I’m Athos.’

‘Nice to meet you. Now, do you want to play?’

Athos shrugged. Why not? It gave him a reason to not go home yet, which was a good thing. 

‘Sure. Who’s it?’

Aramis’ face lit up and Porthos was smiling more genuinely now. 

‘Porthos is it!’ Aramis declared and promptly took off. 

The three played for a good while, until a man arrived at the school. The moment Aramis noticed him, he raced up to him. 

‘Alexandre!’ He exclaimed. 

The man lifted him up and gave him a hug. 

‘Hey buddy! I’m really sorry but your daddy couldn’t come. Something really important happened and they needed him. So, I’m here to pick you up today.’

‘I know,’ Aramis said. ‘Daddy is the best police officer in the whole world. They can’t work without him.’

Alexandre chuckled and wrapped an arm around Porthos, who had appeared besides him. Athos sighed sadly as he looked. He knew what this meant. He would have to go home and wait until Monday arrived. He looked up when he felt Alexandre’s eyes on him. The man put Aramis down and walked over to him. 

‘Hi there,’ He said. ‘I’m Alexandre. What’s your name?’

‘Athos de la Fere.’

‘Are your parents French?’

Athos cocked his head to the side, not understanding the man’s curiosity. He answered him nonetheless. 

‘Yes, sir. They were both born there but moved here before I was born.’

Alexandre nodded and turned back to Porthos and Aramis. 

‘Let’s get you boys home. If I understood your dad correctly, there’s a surprise for you in the kitchen.’

Aramis cheered and took off towards the car, Alexandre behind him to make sure the boy didn’t get hurt. Porthos stayed behind and walked up to Athos. His dark eyes looked sad. 

‘Tell someone, please. There are people who can help you.’

Then he left, leaving Athos confused. How did that boy know? He couldn’t know, Athos made sure no one did. He shook his head and grabbed his backpack again. Time to go home. 

****

‘You worthless piece of shit! Reviens!’

Athos trembled as he hid in the closet. He heard his father’s footsteps and prayed with all his might that the man wouldn’t find him. When the footsteps disappeared again, Athos released the breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

His father was drunk as usual, which meant Athos had to stay hidden for just a few more minutes. If he managed that, his father would pass out and he could hide in his room, which had a lock on the door. 

The nine-year-old rubbed the bruise on his face. How was he going to hide this at school? Miss Clare always noticed everything and a bruise on his face was much harder to hide than a bruise on his back. It didn’t help that he was a bad liar, either. 

Suddenly the closet doors opened and Athos was yanked out by his arm. Beatings rained down on him, as did the hurtful words. He heard himself screaming when the bone in his left-arm snapped. The boy lost every sense of time as the pain continued. 

He didn’t notice the men bursting into the home, pulling his father away. Neither did he notice that the beating had stopped or that there were voices all around him. His mind was blocking everything out, bringing him to a much nicer place. It was warm and nice, with Thomas curled into his side. His mother was stroking his hair, reading poems to him and Thomas. He felt comfortable and safe. It was something he hadn’t felt in years.

******

Treville sighed and looked at the hospital bed again. He felt sorry for the poor boy. Like Alexandre said, they should have gotten there two years earlier. But like he said to Alexandre, no use beating themselves up about it now. At least they had saved the boy, albeit too late for their liking. He still didn’t understand why people abused their children. He couldn’t imagine hurting his sons, ever.   
According to the files, Mr. de la Fere had lost his wife and youngest son two years ago. The man had been left with Athos, his oldest. But instead of healing and helping his son, the man had started to drink. And at some point, started to abuse poor Athos. It was sad, that what once was a loving family, was now a violent drunk and an abused and neglected boy. And even though Treville understood what Mr. de la Fere had been going through, that didn’t mean he forgave the man. Hurting your child was unacceptable. 

‘Where am I?’ 

Treville looked up when he heard the quiet voice and was met with piercing blue eyes. He smiled warmly. 

‘You’re in the hospital, son. How are you feeling?’

Athos frowned and his hands toyed with the sheets that were covering him. 

‘What happened? Where is my father?’

Treville sighed. He had hoped to put this off for a little longer. 

‘We arrested your father. He can’t hurt you anymore. You’re safe now, Athos.’

‘Are you from the CPS?’

There was clear distrust in the boy’s voice. 

‘I’m not. I’m a police officer.’

For a moment, Treville was scrutinized by Athos’ blue eyes. When it appeared Athos had found what he was looking for, he nodded. He didn’t relax though, not in the slightest. 

‘Where are you going to send me too?’

‘That depends. Do you have any other family members you can live with?’

‘No. They’re either dead or they live in France. And they don’t want me. Nobody wants me.’

The last sentence came out so quiet that Treville had to strain his ears to hear it. But he heard it nonetheless. It made him angry and sad at the same time. Athos seemed like a bright and caring child. But the abuse, that had been going on for two freaking years, had done a number on the boy. And, if it hadn't been for the boy's teacher and Porthos, it would never have stopped. 

Treville shook his head to clear his thoughts. He couldn’t send Athos to the orphanage. It wouldn’t help the boy at all. But he couldn’t adopt him either, could he? He already had two sons, who were very loud and energetic. He wasn’t sure if that would match with Athos. He sighed and made his decision. 

‘Athos, when you get better, I’ll bring you to the orphanage. I know the person who runs the place, Mrs. Hunter. She will take good care of you.’

******

Treville still didn’t understand how it had happened but he blamed Porthos and Aramis for it. Only a week after he had send Athos to the orphanage, he had adopted the nine-year-old. Not that he didn’t care for the boy. It was just that he hadn’t been sure if he was able to raise yet another son. 

Alexandre hadn’t been able to stop laughing for a good 20 minutes when Treville told him. He had been immensely confused and apparently, his facial expressions showed it. According to Alexandre, Treville had lost his say in the household. It had been completely taken over by Porthos and Aramis, who made all the decisions. 

Athos had been very surprised when Treville came to adopt him. Mrs. Hunter had told Treville that Athos was convinced nobody cared for him. She had tried everything she could but the boy was very withdrawn and barely spoke. He wasn’t a target for bullies though, as they had quickly discovered Athos didn’t have any qualms about fighting to protect himself. 

Athos had been living with them for a few weeks now and Treville still hadn’t gotten through to him. He understood that things like that took time, but he hated to see the poor boy like this. Porthos and Aramis were sad that their new big brother barely spoke to them and refused to play with them. Treville had tried to explain it to them but it didn’t help. 

******

Athos slammed his door shut and slid down to the floor, crying. Aramis had called him his big brother. He didn’t want to have a little brother! He didn’t want a repeat of Thomas. 

He curled into himself as he remembered Thomas. He missed his little brother so much. It wasn’t fair! Why did that car-crash happen? He still needed his mother and little brother. He could still hear Thomas’ voice, rambling about something new he had learned at school. He could still feel Thomas snuggling into his side while listening to their mother’s poems. He could still hear his mother telling him how much she loved him. He could still feel her arms around him, holding him close. 

Athos didn’t look up when Aramis entered through the bathroom. Nor did he see him motioning for Porthos to come in as well. He did look up when he felt someone hug him. He looked down and saw Aramis looking up, tears pooling in the toddler’s eyes. 

‘I’m sorry that I made you sad, Athos. Please stop crying, I didn’t mean to hurt you.’

Overcome with sadness, Athos roughly shoved Aramis away. He didn’t want comfort, he wanted to be left alone. He didn’t want any little brothers, or fathers. Porthos whispered something to Aramis, who looked deeply hurt. 

Porthos sat on his knees in front of Athos. 

‘Look,’ he said. ‘I know what you’re going through, so does Aramis.’

Athos glared at him. 

‘You don’t, you really don’t.’

Porthos glared back, anger evident in his eyes. 

‘How would you know, huh? Do you know what happened to us? Sure, neither of us lost a little brother, but we know how it feels to lose your mother. And I know how it feels when the person who’s supposed to take care of you, hurts you instead. I can understand that you’re sad but you don’t have to be mean to us. We want to help you! We want you to be our brother!’

Porthos’ words stirred something inside of Athos. The part of him that desperately wanted a family, a little brother to look after. He realised how harsh he had been to the people who wanted him to be part of their family. How unfair he had treated them. 

‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered. ‘I’m so sorry.’

He looked at Aramis, who was hiding slightly behind Porthos. Athos snivelled and fresh tears burned his eyes. 

‘I’m scared. I don’t want to lose another family.’

Out of nowhere, Aramis hugged him again. This time, Athos wrapped his arms around the boy, thankful for the comfort he offered. 

‘It’s okay to be scared. It’s okay to cry. We’re a family and we’re not gonna leave you. Never.’

Athos cried and Porthos joined the hug. After 15 minutes, when Athos had stopped crying, he realised he felt safe again. He was with his brothers, his family and he was safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations  
> Reviens: Come back!


	7. Mother's day?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's d'Artagnan's first Mother's day in his new home. But how is he supposed to celebrate without a mother?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is takes place after the events in chapter 3.   
> Ages: Athos is 14, Porthos 12, Aramis 10 and d'Artagnan 4.

‘Alright class, I have an announcement. This Sunday is very special. Do you know why?’

Multiple hands shot up, the children eager to answer the question. The teacher looked around and pointed at a boy. 

‘Go ahead, Callum. Tell us the answer.’

‘Sunday is Mother’s Day, Mrs. Bowman.’

‘Very good, Callum. And because of that, we’re going to do some arts and crafts tomorrow, to make a beautiful present for Mother’s Day. I’m sure your mothers will be very happy. But you mustn’t tell them. It’s going to be a surprise.’

The children all cheered, except for one. D’Artagnan bit his lip and tried not to cry. When the bell rang, the children excitedly left the class, talking about what they were going to make for their mother. D’Artagnan quietly put on his coat and backpack, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. He didn’t want the other children to see him cry. 

Outside, he looked around for his brothers. They weren’t there yet, so he sat down on the bench to wait for them. He saw his classmates being greeted and hugged by their mothers and suddenly he was overwhelmed by sadness. He wanted his maman! This time, he couldn’t stop himself from crying. 

Miss Clare said goodbye to the last of her students and looked around the schoolyard. In the classroom next to her, she could hear the 5th grade teacher scolding a student. She looked around the corner and saw the student was Aramis Treville. She smiled. Aramis had been in her class last year and she had enjoyed being his teacher. He was a sweet and funny boy and he could be very cheeky. She knew exactly how to handle that. But, in the teacher’s lounge, he was rather infamous. He was very mischievous and caused quite a lot of trouble. 

Miss Clare was pulled out of her thoughts when she heard a sob. She turned her gaze back to the schoolyard and saw a small boy sitting on the bench. His face was buried in his pulled up knees and his shoulders shook with sobs. He looked like a kindergartner, but she didn’t see Mrs. Bowman anywhere. The woman was probably already back inside. Miss Clare sighed and walked over to the bench. The boy’s parents seemed nowhere inside and he could clearly use some comfort. She crouched down in front of the bench and laid a hand on the boy’s arm. 

‘Hey, sweetie. What’s wrong?’ 

Her only answer was a sob that made her heart clench. She stroked the boy’s hair and wrapped a gentle arm around him. 

‘Come on, sweetie, tell me what’s wrong. I’ll see if I can help you.’

When she still didn’t receive an answer, she carefully took the boy’s face and made him look up. The sadness in the brown eyes that met her was so overwhelming that she choked up for a minute. 

‘I can’t do it,’ the boy suddenly whispered. ‘I want to but I can’t.’

‘What are you talking about, sweetie?’

‘The presents at arts and crafts. I can’t make them.’

Miss Clare frowned. Why would the boy be so sad about not being good at arts and crafts? She narrowed her eyes and looked closer at the boy’s face. She had seen the toddler before, he looked so familiar. And then it hit her. He was the youngest son of Jean Treville. She had seen him a few times, when Athos, Porthos or Aramis stopped by her class to say hello. That immediately made it clear to her what she had to do. If you wanted to calm down one of the Treville boys, you looked for his brothers. 

‘Sweetie, I’m going to get your brother. I’ll be back soon.’

The boy simply buried his face back into his knees and continued crying. Miss Clare stood up and went to the classroom of the 5th grade. The teacher, Mr. Henderson, was still scolding Aramis but he seemed nearly finished. Miss Clare knocked on the door and entered. 

‘Excuse me, Mr. Henderson, but I need to borrow Aramis. It’s very important.’

‘Do you think it could wait a few more minutes?’

Miss Clare shook her head determined. 

‘I’m sorry, but it really can’t. His brother, d’Artagnan, needs him. He’s crying and Aramis is the only one I know who can calm him down.’

Mr. Henderson, although a strict teacher, cared a lot about children and understood strong family bonds. He nodded and turned to Aramis, who was looking up at him with a pleading look. Concern for his little brother was clear in the boy’s eyes. 

‘You can go, Aramis. But you have to promise me that you won’t repeat the action of today.’

‘I promise, Mr. Henderson. And I’m very sorry.’

‘That’s alright. Now go to your brother.’

Aramis grabbed his stuff and raced after Miss Clare. When they got to the bench, Aramis immediately grabbed his little brother in a hug, letting him cry. The older boy rubbed circles on d’Artagnan’s back and whispered comforting words. When d’Artagnan had finally calmed down, Aramis sat down on the bench, pulling his little brother onto his lap. 

‘Why are you sad, pup? Did somebody hurt you? Tell me who and I’ll hit them for you.’

Miss Clare knew she should reprimand Aramis for what he just said, but she knew now wasn’t the right time. Besides, she had grown up with two older brothers who were just the same. She knew that Aramis said it out of love and protection, not violence. 

D’Artagnan sniffed miserably and looked at his brother. 

‘Mrs. Bowman said we’re going to do arts and crafts tomorrow.’

Aramis frowned. 

‘I thought you liked that?’

‘I do. But we’re going to make a present for Mother’s Day and I don’t have a mother. I can’t make one for my maman, because she’s in heaven and I can’t go to her and I want to make her a present and do things for her and I can’t.’

The rant ended in another sob and Aramis held the little boy tightly. Miss Clare bit her bottom lip as understanding dawned on her. All of the Treville boys had been orphans before they were adopted. They had all lost their mothers, Aramis twice when Alexa Treville died. Poor d’Artagnan didn’t have a mother to make a Mother’s Day present for. 

Shouting behind her made Miss Clare turn around. Athos and Porthos entered the schoolyard, walking towards their brothers. They stopped dead in their tracks when they saw d’Artagnan crying. A moment later, they sprinted towards the bench and crouched down in front of their youngest brothers. 

‘What happened?’ Athos asked. 

‘The pup is sad because of Mother’s Day.’

Athos and Porthos immediately understood. Athos stood up and took d’Artagnan from Aramis, holding the boy close and whispering into his ear. Miss Clare, who was standing close, did a double take when she heard Athos speaking French to his youngest brother. The boy was in kindergarten for Heaven’s sake, how did he understand French? But then she realised how French the name d’Artagnan sounded. His birth parents had probably been French. 

Finally, d’Artagnan calmed down again. He looked at his oldest brother, who smiled at him. Porthos and Aramis joined them and Porthos whispered something in Athos’ ear, which made the older boy chuckle. 

‘You know, d’Art, we have a different tradition on Mother’s Day. Since we all lost our mothers, we’ve turned it into Brother’s day. So, we get a present for each other, instead of our mothers. Would you like to celebrate it with us this year?’

A small smile appeared on d’Artagnan’s face and he nodded. Then he frowned. 

‘Do you think Mrs. Bowman would allow that?’

‘I will talk to her,’ Miss Clare said. ‘I’m sure I can get her to agree.’

The three older brothers smiled gratefully at her and she smiled back at them. She had had all three of them in her class and she had loved it. Hopefully, in a few years, she would get d’Artagnan as well.   
Speaking of the youngest brother, he gave her such a sweet smile that it lit up the whole schoolyard. Athos put his little brother back down on the ground and grabbed the boy’s hand. 

‘We have to go home now, or dad will worry. Thank you very much, Miss Clare.’

‘You’re welcome, Athos. Have a nice day, boys.’

‘You too, Miss Clare,’ all four of the brothers said. 

Miss Clare watched as the brothers left the schoolyard. Athos and Aramis were both holding one of d’Artagnan’s hands and Porthos had one arm loosely around Aramis’ shoulders. Miss Clare smiled and went to talk to Mrs. Bowman. 

******

‘Wake up, d’Art. It’s time to get up.’

D’Artagnan yawned and rubbed his eyes with one fist. When he opened them, Athos was leaning over him with a big smile on his face. 

‘Come on, d’Art. Today’s a special day.’

Suddenly, it hit the little boy and he jumped excitedly out of bed. He and Athos went downstairs and d’Artagnan’s eyes lit up when he smelled pancakes. When they entered the kitchen, Porthos and Aramis were standing impatiently by a table filled with a delicious breakfast. Treville had just finished the last of the pancakes and brought them over to the table. They all sat down and the boys smiled at each other before digging into their breakfast. There wasn’t a lot of speaking, since they were all enjoying their delicious food. 

After breakfast, the boys went to the living room and sat down on the ground. They had stashed all their presents there the day before. Treville entered a moment later, handing Athos a dice before sitting on a couch. 

‘Alright,’ Athos said. ‘Since this is d’Art’s first time, I’ll explain how it works. We all roll the dice, except for dad, to get a number. For example, I get one, Aramis gets five, Porthos gets three and d’Art gets six. Then I roll the dice again and if I roll five, we all have to give Aramis our present for him. Do you understand, d’Art?’

D’Artagnan nodded enthusiastically and the boys began. Athos got four, Aramis got two, Porthos got six and d’Artagnan got one. When Athos rolled again, he got six. They all grabbed the gift they had gotten for Porthos. Athos had gotten him a book about football, Aramis a pocket knife (Treville was not too happy about that) and d’Artagnan had made a drawing of Porthos playing football, as well as a sweet and beautiful card. 

Porthos rolled two so they all got their gifts for Aramis. He received a set of headphones from Athos, a comic of his favourite series from Porthos and a doctors set with a card attached to it (just as sweet and beautiful as the one Porthos got) from d’Artagnan. 

Aramis rolled four and the gifts for Athos were collected. A collection of Shakespeare’s sonnets from Porthos, a wooden box to keep his most treasured belongings in from Aramis (the teacher had made it, Aramis had painted it in arts and crafts) and a notebook from d’Artagnan. However, there was no card attached to it this time. When asked about it, d’Artagnan stared pointedly at the notebook so Athos opened it, Porthos and Aramis looking over his shoulders. The back of the card was glued onto the first page and of course, it was sweet and beautiful. 

There was only one brother left but Aramis demanded that Athos rolled the dice. Funny enough, he rolled one. They all grabbed their gifts for d’Artagnan, excited to give their little brother his first Brother’s Day presents. From Porthos he got his favourite books, The Count of Monte Cristo and The Hobbit. D’Artagnan’s father used to read them to him and Porthos knew how badly the boy wanted the books. Aramis had gotten him a wooden sword and shield (Aramis had begged his teacher to make it for him. Again, Aramis had done the painting) to play with. From Athos, he got a framed picture of their family and a music box that played a song called Love Story. 

Treville shook his head fondly at seeing the presents. The boys always went out of their way to come up with the best presents for their brothers. 

‘Boys, you do know there are still birthdays coming and Christmas?’

‘We know,’ Aramis said. ‘That’s when we ask for lots of presents and toys. This is different.’

Treville smiled. 

‘Forget I asked. Now, did you have plans for the rest of Brother’s day?’

They did and at the end of the day, they were all sitting on the couch, watching a movie together. There was a big bowl of popcorn on the coffee table, as well as four glasses of Coke. Aramis had gotten a big blanket from the cabinet and they were all sitting under it. Halfway through the movie, d’Artagnan rubbed his eyes tiredly and leaned against Aramis, who seemed to have the most body heat at the moment. 

‘Best day ever,’ He mumbled. ‘I have the best big brothers in the world.’

Then, his eyes closed and he fell asleep. His older brothers smiled happily at each other and cheered silently. They had wanted to make sure d’Artagnan had a great first Brother’s Day and they had succeeded.


	8. The Poison Tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys play a game they invented.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ages: Athos is 15, Porthos is 13, Aramis is 11 and d'Artagnan is 5.

‘I was angry with my friend. I told my wrath, my wrath did end. I was angry with my foe. I told it not, my wrath did grow.’

Athos looked around the room. Porthos had his head in his hands and looked miserable. Aramis was looking at the ceiling, as if the answer was written there. 

‘Do you give up?’ Athos asked.

Aramis glared at him. ‘It’s not fair! I’ve never heard this one before!’

‘He’s right,’ Porthos piped up. ‘This is something only you would know.’

Athos held up his hands. ‘Don’t look at me! You wanted to make this bet. It’s not my fault you got cocky, just because you got a good grade for that English project.’

At that moment d’Artagnan trotted in. He had a cookie in his hand and looked curiously at his older brothers. 

‘What are you doing?’ 

Porthos smiled. ‘We’re playing a game, pup.’

‘Oh, can I play too?’

Aramis shook his head. ‘Sorry pup, we don’t want you to die. Athos is cheating.’

D’Artagnan looked disappointed for a moment. Then he looked at his brothers again and released his puppy eyes.

‘Pretty please? I’ll give you my cookie.’

Athos chuckled. ‘Alright d’Art, you can play along. Sit down between ‘Mis and Porthos. Maybe you can help them.’

‘Yay!’ 

D’Artagnan did as he was told and looked at Athos expectantly. 

‘We’re playing a poetry game. I read a few lines of a poem and if you can tell me the title of the poem and the name of the author, you get a point. If none of you knows it, I get a point. The one with the most points wins. The score right now is five points for me and four points for Porthos and Aramis.’ Athos explained.

‘Do you understand the rules, d’Artagnan?’

The little boy nodded enthusiastically. Aramis shook his head.

‘Poor pup. You won’t know a single thing.’

D’Artagnan glared at him, which looked rather cute so it didn’t have the wanted effect. Athos smiled and looked at his watch.

‘Alright. ‘Mis and Porthos didn’t know the last one. Did you hear it?’

‘Uh-huh, I heard it from the hallway.’

Athos smiled again. ‘Good. Do you know which poem it is?’

‘Yes! It’s called A Poison Tree and the author is William Blake. He published it in 1794 as part of his Songs of Experience collection.’

Aramis mouth fell open and Porthos looked at Athos.

‘That’s correct. Very good, d’Art.’

‘H-h-how can he know that? How does he know that?’

Athos grinned at Aramis.

‘Maybe he is, unlike you two, actually smart and just doesn’t brag about it.’

That earned him a glare from both Porthos and Aramis. D’Artagnan giggled.

‘Do we have time for more?’

Athos looked at his watch. ‘We have time for one more. Right now, it’s a tie, so whoever gets the next point wins.’

‘Bring it!’ Aramis said.

‘Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate.’

d’Artagnan’s hand immediately shot up. ‘It’s sonnet 18 from William Shakespeare. People also called it Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day but actually it doesn’t have a title. It’s just called sonnet 18.’

‘Congratulations d’Artagnan. You just earned the victory for your team.’

Porthos grabbed d’Artagnan’s hands and studied them. Aramis checked the little boy’s pockets. 

‘What are you looking for?’ Athos asked.

‘We’re checking if the pup cheated.’

Athos chuckled. ‘I’m pretty sure he hasn’t. You think cheating is in his dictionary?’

Aramis glared at him.

‘He’s five years old! How does he know all of this if he didn’t cheat?’

Athos shrugged. Porthos let go of d’Artagnan’s hands and looked at the clock.

‘Aramis let’s go. We’re going to be late for practice.’

Both boys left the room, Aramis still grumbling about the fact that his little brother knew things he didn’t. d’Artagnan hopped of the couch and climbed in Athos’ lap.

‘Do you think I cheated, Athos?’

Athos smiled at his youngest brother.

‘Nah, I’m just proud that you remembered the poems I read to you at night. You’re a smart boy, d’Art.’

d’Artagnan smiled and snuggled closer to his brother’s chest. Athos wrapped his arms around the little boy and chuckled softly when he thought about Porthos’ and Aramis’ shock that their little brother knew more than they did. If only they knew Athos read poems to d’Artagnan, just like Athos’ mother used to do for him and Thomas.


	9. Rainy days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry I was gone so long. Loads of stuff happened and time went by a lot faster than I realised. But anyways, here is a new chapter for you to enjoy!

Athos checked his watch for the umpteenth time, feeling very annoyed. He was supposed to pick up d’Artagnan half an hour ago, but because his classmates hadn’t listened to the teacher, they all had to stay after school had ended. He had tried to explain to his teacher that he had to pick up his little brother but the man wouldn’t listen. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, when he had asked permission to call Aramis so he could pick d’Artagnan up, the teacher took his phone. 

Athos looked outside and cringed when he saw it was raining. If he didn’t pick d’Artagnan up soon, the kid was sure to get sick. 

After 15 more minutes, the class was finally allowed to leave. Athos quickly put on his jacket and slung his bag over his shoulder. It was still raining when he got outside, which only motivated him to run as hard as he could. He hoped d’Artagnan was waiting for him inside and not outside. Sadly, that was not to be. When he arrived at the elementary school, his youngest brother was sitting on the steps, shivering and completely soaked. Athos stopped in front of the boy.

‘D’Artagnan, are you alright?’

The little boy looked up and Athos winced when he saw the tear tracks.

‘I’m cold, Athos.’

‘Let’s get you home then.’

He lifted the boy up in his arms and started to walk home.

‘I thought you forgot about me. I though you didn’t want me anymore.’

Athos hugged his brother closer. 

‘I’m sorry, d’Artagnan. You did nothing wrong, I promise.’

When they got home, a worried looking Aramis opened the door.

‘Where have you been? I came home and there was nobody. I was so worried!’

‘Can we discuss this inside, Aramis? I think d’Art here is rather cold and needs to be warmed up.’

Aramis quickly let them in and turned up the heat in the living room. While Athos got d’Artagnan out of his coat, Aramis grabbed some warm blankets from the cabinet. When he came back, Athos had   
just pulled d’Artagnan’s shoes of his feet. Together they wrapped their little brother in the blankets and laid him down on the couch. The five-year-old looked at them sleepily and smiled. Aramis dove next to the boy and wrapped his arms around him, pulling him into a hug.

‘I’ll make some hot chocolate. Porthos will be home soon and he’s gonna be soaked. And d’Art could definitely use some too.’

Aramis nodded and Athos went into the kitchen. Just as he finished preparing the drinks, the front door opened, revealing a soaked and seething Porthos. Aramis looked at him.

‘I see you’ve been enjoying the rain?’

‘Shut up.’ Porthos growled.

He dumped his stuff next to the stairs and sat down on the other end of the couch. Athos entered the room with four mugs of hot chocolate and placed them on the coffee table. Porthos nodded his thanks and grabbed one of the mugs. Aramis handed one to d’Artagnan before grabbing one for himself. Athos grabbed the last mug and sat down in the chair. For a while, there was only the sound of four boys sipping their drinks. Suddenly, Aramis piped up.

‘You still owe me an explanation, ‘Thos. How did you and the pup get completely soaked? You should have been home before the rain started.’

Athos sighed and explained what had happened. When he finished, Aramis and Porthos started on a rant about the teacher being an idiot. Athos shook his head fondly and looked at d’Artagnan, who had fallen asleep in Aramis’ embrace, empty mug hanging loosely from one hand. It always amazed Athos how the kid was able to fall asleep when his two loudest brothers were shouting.  
Suddenly, he realized Porthos and Aramis had stopped shouting and were looking at him.

‘What?’

‘We asked if you wanted to play Call of Duty.’

‘Sure. But where are you going to put the pup, ‘Mis?’

‘On the couch, it’s big enough.’

It was easier said than done, as d’Artagnan didn’t take well to losing his pillow. Eventually, Athos moved to the couch and took the boy from Aramis. He placed d’Artagnan in his lap, the boy’s head resting against his chest. 

The three played Call of Duty for a while but when d’Artagnan began to stir, they quickly shut it off. Their dad had bought them the game, on the condition that they wouldn’t let d’Artagnan watch or play it. D’Artagnan opened his eyes and looked around the room.

He wriggled a bit and asked: ‘Why is it so warm here?’

Athos chuckled and helped the boy to get free from all the blankets. As soon as he was free, d’Artagnan climbed over Aramis to Porthos and sat down in his lap.

‘Why were you angry? Did Aramis do something?’

Aramis made an indignant sound, which made Porthos chuckle.

‘Nah, Aramis didn’t do anything, pup. My football coach was just being a pain in the ass. And the rain didn’t do anything to lighten my mood.’

D’Artagnan nodded in understanding and hopped of the couch. 

‘Where are you going, pup?’ Aramis asked.

‘I’m going to grab a book. You promised you would read to me.’

When the boy left the room, his three brothers let out a groan. They had promised d’Artagnan the day before that they would read to him. They didn’t have a problem with keeping their promise, it was just that d’Artagnan wanted to hear the same book multiple times. At some point that would get annoying, especially when it was not their dad that read to their youngest brother.


	10. Father's day

Treville woke up to the sound of talking outside his bedroom. He smiled to himself when he heard some shushing and snickering. Then the door was pushed open and four heads poked in. When they noticed he was awake, his sons came into the room, smiling excitedly at him. Aramis and d’Artagnan ran up to him and climbed on the bed, attacking him with big hugs. Porthos and Athos followed more slowly, the latter carefully balancing a tray in his hands. 

‘Happy Father’s Day!’ They chorused. 

Treville smiled at them and motioned for Porthos and Athos to join the hug. They happily obeyed, Athos setting the tray on the nightstand. When they let go, Aramis jumped slightly up and down in excitement. 

‘We made you breakfast. A big one, just like you do for us on Brother’s Day.’

‘Thank you, boys. If you move a bit, I can enjoy it.’

The boys moved and Athos handed the tray to his dad. It was indeed quite the breakfast, scrambled eggs with bacon, toast with jam and a glass of orange juice. Treville suspected that Athos and Porthos had been in charge of the stove and toaster, seeing as d’Artagnan was too small to reach it and Aramis was banned from using them. When Treville had finished his breakfast, the boys looked at him expectantly. 

‘It was delicious, boys. Not that I expected anything else from you.’

Their smiles lit up the room and Aramis started to pull on Treville’s arm. 

‘Come on, dad! We have to go downstairs so you can get your presents!’

Athos chuckled and shooed his brothers out of the room, so Treville could get dressed. When he got downstairs, the boys were sitting in the living room, each holding a gift. He sat down as well and Aramis was the first to give his present. 

‘I made you this because you’re the best dad in the whole world. Please say you like the present!’

Treville accepted the gift and chuckled. Aramis had made a drawing of Treville arresting thieves and throwing them in prison. At the top it said ‘Best police officer in the whole world!’ in big letters. He grabbed Aramis and gave him a big hug. 

‘Thank you, Aramis. I love this present.’

Porthos was next. His gift was wrapped and when Treville opened it, his eyes went wide. Porthos had gotten him a camera, and not a cheap one. He wondered where his son had gotten the money, but then he remembered Porthos doing lots of odd jobs the last two months. 

‘I knew you wanted this, dad. And since you always work so hard to give us what we want, I thought I would return the favour.’

‘Porthos, not only am I grateful for this camera, but I’m so proud of you for working so hard to save up all the money. Thank you, son.’

Porthos reached forward and Treville hugged him. 

Athos was next. His gift was wrapped as well and turned out to be a CD of Deep Purple. It was his favourite album of the band, Machine Head. He used to have the album, until the car crash that took his wife’s life. Alexa had loved the album as well and she had been listening to it that day. Treville had considered buying the album for almost six years but couldn’t get himself to do it. He looked up and met Athos’ blue eyes. 

‘I know how much that album means to you, dad. I know you’ve considered buying the album but you never did it. I want you to be able to enjoy your favourite album. Do you like it?’

Athos sounded a bit nervous, like he wasn’t sure if he did the right thing. Treville swallowed the emotions, caused by the memories of Alexa, back and hugged his oldest son. He didn’t have to say anything for Athos to know that he had done the right thing. 

D’Artagnan was last. Everyone looked at him expectantly. The boy looked down at his gift and then back up at his dad. He was biting on his bottom lip, his breathing becoming slightly erratic. Porthos gently laid his hand on d’Artagnan’s arm. 

‘D’Artagnan, your gift is great. There’s nothing wrong with having made it yourself. You saw Aramis’ gift. He made that drawing himself and dad loved it.’

Everyone was shocked when they saw the breath-taking hurt in d’Artagnan’s eyes. He began to hyperventilate slightly and a whimper escaped his lips. His knuckles were turning white from how hard he was gripping his present. 

‘I’m s-sorry,’ he whispered. ‘I can’t, I’m sorry.’

He stood up and fled the room, taking his gift with him. Aramis was the first to react, running after his little brother. His eyes widened in surprise when he noticed d’Artagnan was going outside. Just as the toddler got in the backyard, Aramis caught up to him. He grabbed his little brother around the middle and pulled him back, both of them falling on the ground. Before d’Artagnan could get away, Aramis pulled him into his lap and hugged him close. 

‘It’s okay, little brother, tell me what’s wrong.’

D’Artagnan whimpered and buried his head in Aramis’ chest. 

‘I c-can’t do it. I don’t w-want to ch-choose.’

‘What do you mean, d’Art?’

‘I d-don’t want to choose b-between my daddies. I w-want both of t-them.’

Realisation hit Aramis and he felt tears gathering in his eyes. He knew exactly what the problem was. This was d’Artagnan’s first Father’s Day without his daddy. He was torn between his adoptive and biological dad. Aramis had experienced the exact same thing when he was five years old. He loved Treville as his daddy but he loved his papá too. When Father’s Day arrived, he didn’t know who he should give his present to. 

Luckily, Athos and Porthos had been there to help him. They had comforted him and Aramis knew it was his turn to do the same for d’Artagnan. It was what a good big brother did and he wanted to be the best in the whole world. He took a deep breath and blinked the tears away. 

‘I know what you’re going through. I had the same problem on my first Father’s Day without my papá. But Athos and Porthos told me something.’

D’Artagnan looked up with teary eyes. 

‘What did they tell you?’

‘They told me I didn’t have to choose. I could give my daddy and my papá a gift. And they were right. My papá wanted me to be happy and I am. That was the biggest Father’s Day gift I could give him. And now, I don’t have that problem anymore. As long as I’m happy, my papá has his gift. Every year, I give dad a gift on Father’s Day and then he is happy too.’

‘You don’t think I abandon my papa by giving daddy a gift?’

‘Of course not! He wants you to celebrate Father’s Day with our dad. That way, he knows you’re okay and that’s all he wants.’

D’Artagnan snivelled, tears streaming down his face. 

‘Do you miss your papá?’

The question was asked in all innocence but it hit Aramis hard. His heart clenched when he remembered his papá’s deep laugh, his strong arms and his rumbling voice full of love. How he would tuck Aramis in every night, and sing songs for him. Aramis’ mamá had died when he was one year old, so it had been just the two of them. Oh, how Aramis missed his papá’s games and stories.   
He couldn’t stop the tears streaming down his face, or the sobs escaping his lips. He could almost see his papá smiling at him, which made him cry even harder. Suddenly, two arms wrapped around his neck and a small hand was carding through his hair. 

‘I’m sorry, grande frère, I didn’t mean to make you cry. Please stop crying.’

Eventually, Aramis calmed down and looked at his little brother. He couldn’t help but smile a bit at the fact that d’Artagnan had been comforting him instead of the other way around. 

‘I miss my papa too. Do you think he’s happy?’

‘I’m sure of it, hermanito. He’s in heaven with your mommy and watching over you. He’s happy as long as you are. Although he does miss you very much.’

‘Will I ever see him again?’

‘Absolutely. One day, when you’re about a hundred years old or so, you will go to heaven too. And then you will see your mommy and daddy again.’

D’Artagnan rubbed the tears from his eyes and smiled at Aramis. The older brother smiled back and rubbed the toddler’s back. The little boy leaned against Aramis and looked up at him with solemn eyes. 

‘Thank you, Aramis. When you’re hundred, you will go to heaven too and see your papá and mommy again. I think they miss you too. But will I still be able to see you in heaven?’

‘Of course, you will. We’re brothers and we will always be together! Nothing will ever truly separate us.’

The brothers hugged each other fiercely, comforted by the conversation they had. Eventually, Aramis stood up, lifting d’Artagnan in his arms and went back inside. Before he could go to the living room however, d’Artagnan pulled on his sleeve. 

‘My gift isn’t ready yet. I need crayons.’

******

Treville, Athos and Porthos looked up when Aramis entered the living room. D’Artagnan was hiding behind him, glancing nervously at his dad. Aramis whispered something in the boy’s ear and gently nudged him forward. D’Artagnan was clutching a paper in his hand, gradually approaching Treville. When he reached him, he handed the gift and stared at the floor. 

‘I’m sorry for running away, daddy. I didn’t know what to do but I do now. I’m giving you the present I made and I hope you like it.’

Treville studied the drawing and smiled. He recognized himself, his sons and their house in the middle of the drawing. In a corner of the drawing, two figures with wings were watching at the family. At the very top, it said ‘Happy Father’s Day!’ in big letters. 

He looked up and noticed Porthos had wrapped an arm around Aramis, who had tear tracks on his face. At once, Treville realised what had been the problem. He should have realised, should have spoken to d’Artagnan about it. But, perhaps it was better that Aramis had done it. The boy knew exactly what his little brother had been going through and thus, could offer better comfort. A surge of pride for his second youngest filled Treville. It couldn’t have been easy but the boy had done it. 

A small snivel made him look down and he noticed d’Artagnan was looking at him. His eyes were filled with trepidation and tears. His hands were toying with the hem of his t-shirt and he was chewing on his bottom lip. 

‘It’s a beautiful drawing, d’Artagnan. I love it.’

‘You do? You’re not mad I drew papa and maman?’

‘Why would I? They are your family too and they belong in the drawing. In fact, I like it even more this way.’

D’Artagnan flung himself towards Treville and he hugged his son close. An idea hit him and he whispered it into the toddler’s ear. 

*******

Aramis walked next to d’Artagnan, helping him to carry the flowers. When they arrived at their destination, Aramis let go of the flowers. D’Artagnan carefully placed them down on the grave and knelt in front of it. Tears were glistening in his eyes but he was smiling. 

‘Hey papa. It’s Father’s Day today, so I thought you deserved a gift too. Do you remember Aramis? He’s one of my big brothers and I love him a lot. He told me that you are in heaven now, watching me. Well, you don’t have to worry, I’m okay. Treville is my new daddy and I have three big brothers. But don’t be sad, you are still my papa. You always will be.’

Tears were now freely coursing down d’Artagnan’s face and his voice was trembling. 

‘I miss you, papa. I want to see you again, just one more time. I miss you so much.’

Aramis knelt down next to d’Artagnan and wrapped an arm around him. He had tears in his eyes too, for he knew d’Artagnan’s hurt all too well. He wished his papá had a grave as well, so he could visit it.   
Aramis pushed his sad thoughts away and focused on d’Artagnan. His little brother needed him. He had to help his little brother to finish his gift. 

‘Hi, Alexandre. I know you’re not my daddy but I miss you a lot too. We all do. But I know you’re in heaven now and that you’re happy. And don’t you worry, I’m gonna help d’Artagnan to finish his gift now.’

D’Artagnan nodded at Aramis. He was still crying but he knew what to do. 

‘Je t’aime papa. Et j’espère que tu es heureux. Heureuse fête des pères.’ 

Aramis held d’Artagnan close. They cried together, the rest of their family not willing to intrude. Then, suddenly, Porthos stepped forward and hugged his little brothers. Treville and Athos didn’t hesitate before joining the hug. The family sat there for a while, just comforting each other. 

‘Bien hecho, Aramis. Me siento orgulloso de ustedes.’ 

Aramis looked up when he heard the very familiar voice. He thought he had imagined it, seeing as nobody else had heard it. But he smiled as he remembered how his papá would tell him that his loved ones would always watch over him from heaven. 

‘Gracias, papá. Te amo.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations  
> Je t’aime papa. Et j’espère que tu es heureux. Heureuse fête des pères: I love you, daddy. And I hope you're happy. Happy Father's day.   
> Bien hecho, Aramis. Me siento orgulloso de ustedes: Well done, Aramis. I am proud of you.   
> Gracias, papá. Te amo: Thank you, daddy. I love you.


	11. Girlfriends & baseball

Porthos smiled when d’Artagnan came running up to him and Athos, his bag hitting his side with every step. When he reached them, he was panting and his face was red. 

‘Did you see it? I made it to second base!’

Porthos pulled off the boy’s cap and ruffled his hair. 

‘We sure did. You were awesome!’

D’Artagnan smiled and looked at Athos expectantly. His eldest brother always had a compliment for him. The boy’s face fell when the teenager didn’t acknowledge him, too busy with texting. Porthos noticed and nudged his older brother. When Athos looked up and glared at him, Porthos nodded towards d’Artagnan. 

‘Oh, yeah, you did great, d’Art.’ 

Porthos frowned at the absent tone in Athos’ voice. His thoughts were clearly somewhere else. Luckily, d’Artagnan hadn’t noticed it and he beamed happily at his eldest brother. 

As they got in the car and drove home, Athos thought about his girlfriend, Kim. She was a cheerleader and they had met during one of Porthos’ football practices. The girl had expressed her problems with Algebra II and since Athos was very good at Math, he had offered to help her study for the next test. When she got a B for her next test, she asked him out and he happily accepted. Now, they had been going steady for two weeks and she was coming to his place on Saturday. He couldn’t wait to introduce her to his family. 

When they got home, d’Artagnan pulled on Athos’ sleeve. The teenager smiled down at him. 

‘What is it, d’Art?’

‘There’s going to be a game next week, on Saturday. It’s gonna be very important. Porthos said he will come. Will you be there too?’

‘Of course, I will. I promise I will be there.’

‘Good. Don’t forget about it.’

D’Artagnan happily skipped inside, excited to tell his dad and Aramis all about the upcoming game. 

******

Athos woke up to the smell of bacon. He got up and noticed that d’Artagnan’s bed was empty. The boy was probably already downstairs, watching cartoons with Aramis. He smiled when he realized Kim would be coming over later that day. After a quick shower, he threw on some clothes and made his way downstairs. Treville smiled at him as he entered the kitchen. 

‘Morning, Athos. Today is the big day, huh?’

‘Sure is, dad. Please tell me Porthos hasn’t stolen all the bacon yet.’

‘He tried to,’ d’Artagnan piped up from the doorway. ‘But I saved you some.’ 

The little boy held out a plate, which was filled with fried eggs and bacon. Athos accepted it and ruffled his brother’s hair. 

‘Thanks pup. I don’t know what I would do without you.’

Around 1 p.m. the doorbell rang. Treville had to open the door, since Athos was busy wrestling with his brothers. He smiled at the girl, who was standing in the doorway. 

‘Hi there. You must be Kim. My name is Jean Treville, I’m Athos’ father.’

‘Where is Athos?’

Treville frowned slightly. He had expected the girl to be a bit more polite. Nevertheless, he stepped aside and let her in. She immediately walked to the living room, leaving Treville to choke on the perfume he smelled when she passed him. 

Athos was just holding a squirming d’Artagnan upside down, when he heard someone clear their throat from the doorway. He looked up and smiled when he saw Kim. Throwing d’Artagnan over his shoulder, he walked over and kissed his girlfriend. 

‘Hey, Kim. You look beautiful.’

‘Thanks. I like this outfit but I think a Prada bag would have matched better than the Gucci. Can we go to your room?’

‘Not yet. I want to introduce you to my brothers first.’

He turned around and pointed at Porthos who was holding Aramis in a headlock. 

‘The one failing to get out of a headlock is Aramis, he’s my second youngest brother. He’s twelve years old, so he’s in 7th grade.’

Aramis stopped his struggling for a minute, in order to wave at the girl. 

‘The one holding Aramis in a headlock is Porthos, he’s my eldest younger brother. He’s 14 years old and a freshman. He goes to our school and plays in the freshman team.’

Porthos simply smiled at them, not willing to lose his grip on Aramis. D’Artagnan, who had been still during the introductions, started to squirm again. Athos chuckled and lifted d’Artagnan off his shoulder, holding him up in front of Kim. 

‘And this squirming little monkey is my youngest brother, d’Artagnan. He’s 6 years old and started 1st grade this year. Say hello to Kim, d’Artagnan.’

‘Hello, Kim,’ d’Artagnan said with an endearing smile. 

‘Can we go to your room now?’ Kim asked. 

‘Sure,’ Athos said and put d’Artagnan on the ground.

When the couple had disappeared upstairs, Aramis broke free of Porthos’ hold and made his way over to d’Artagnan, who was still staring after Athos and his girlfriend. 

‘Did I do something wrong?’

Aramis frowned. 

‘What makes you say that?’

‘When I said hello, she looked at me the way dad looked at you when you started a fire in the kitchen. Did I make her angry?’

‘Of course you didn’t. I bet she was just jealous Athos has such a cute little brother as you. Don’t worry about it. Do you want to play hide and seek? Porthos can be it.’

‘Yay! Count to twenty?’

Porthos nodded, closed his eyes and started to count. As soon as d’Artagnan had left the room, he stopped and turned to Aramis. 

‘I don’t like Athos’ girlfriend very much. How about you?’

‘I don’t like her either. She didn’t greet us and did you see her roll her eyes when Athos introduced the pup? How can you not smile when d’Art smiles at you?’

‘It’s impossible, unless you don’t have a heart. I don’t get what Athos sees in her. Anyways, let’s continue this game, otherwise we’ll have an angry pup to deal with.’

Aramis chuckled at that and left the room when Porthos started to count again. 

******

Kim sighed and threw her blonde hair over her shoulder. Athos had gone downstairs a few minutes ago to get them something to drink, leaving her by herself in his room. She really didn’t like his room. It was boring and it wasn’t even his own. No, he shared it with his youngest brother, whom he wouldn’t shut up about. Sighing again, Kim grabbed her phone and started texting. 

Suddenly, the door opened and Athos’ youngest brother stormed inside. The boy clearly hadn’t noticed her, since he closed the door behind him and sprinted to the closet. 

‘What are you doing here?’ Kim snapped at him. 

The boy stopped and turned around. When he saw her, he gave her a beaming smile and put a finger to his lips. 

‘I’m playing hide and seek. Porthos is it and he never looks in the closet. Don’t tell him where I’m hiding, please.’

Kim glared at him and he recoiled slightly, his smile disappearing. 

‘Go hide somewhere else! It’s annoying enough that Athos won’t shut up about you, I don’t need you bugging me. Get out!’

The boy clenched his fists and stared up at her stubbornly. 

‘No. It’s my room, you can’t tell me what to do. I can hide here if I want to.’

Kim stood up and stalked over. She grabbed the boy’s wrist and dragged him to the door, pushing him into the hallway and throwing the door in his face. She sat down on the bed and a few minutes later Athos came back, two drinks in his hand. 

‘Hey, sorry it took so long. You said you didn’t want water from the tap so I had to look for water bottles in the garage.’

She smiled at him. 

‘Thanks. Hey, I saw there’s going to be a new movie playing in the cinema, next week. I thought we could go that Saturday.’

‘Sure, sounds like fun. Do you want me to pick you up or do we meet at the cinema?’

‘We can meet at the cinema. The movie plays at 3 p.m. so we could meet up around half past two.’

‘It’s a date.’

*******

It was quiet during dinner, which was very unusual. What really amazed Treville was that he always wished for some quiet time, but when it occurred, he didn’t enjoy it at all. He decided to break the silence. 

‘So, Athos, your girlfriend is really something. Did you have a good time with her?’

Athos smiled at him. 

‘Sure did. I really like her. What did you think of her?’

Treville forced a smile. He didn’t want to hurt his son’s feelings by criticising his girlfriend, though he found the girl rather rude. 

‘She seems nice enough. I’m glad you like her so much.’

While Athos asked Aramis and Porthos about their opinion, d’Artagnan stared at his food. He thought Kim was really mean, but he didn’t want to upset Athos. He hadn’t told anyone what had happened during hide and seek and he wasn’t going to. Athos seemed happy with his girlfriend and d’Artagnan didn’t want to ruin things for his big brother. 

For a while it was silent again, but then Athos remembered something. 

‘Dad, can I borrow the car next week? Kim and I are going to see a movie on Saturday.’

‘Sure son. What time does the movie play?’ 

‘At three o’ clock.’

Porthos gasped. Surely, Athos couldn’t be serious. He looked over at d’Artagnan and saw the boy’s wide eyes. He opened his mouth to say something but d’Artagnan shook his head at him. Fine, he would talk to Athos after dinner. 

When dinner ended, Porthos cornered his older brother in the living room. 

‘You’re not serious, are you?’

Athos frowned at him. 

‘What do you mean?’

‘That date! You can’t go next Saturday.’

‘And why not?’

‘Because that’s the day of d’Artagnan’s baseball game! His game starts at two o’ clock!’

‘So, I’ll go to his next one. What’s the problem?’

Porthos gaped at him in anger. How could Athos be so stupid?

‘You promised him you would come to this one! You can’t go back on your word!’

‘Look, I’m sure d’Artagnan won’t mind! He’s just a kid, he probably already forgot that I promised. Besides, it’s not always about him! I really like Kim and I want to go on this date with her. I always do everything for d’Artagnan and it’s really annoying! I just want to do something for myself for once!’

Neither of the fighting teenagers noticed d’Artagnan in the doorway. Aramis, who was standing behind d’Artagnan, did. He watched as his little brother held back a sob and ran upstairs. The hurt in the little boy’s eyes nearly floored Aramis and anger boiled up inside him. He stormed into the living room, to his fighting brothers. 

‘How could you possibly say that?!’ 

Athos and Porthos turned their heads towards Aramis, who was vibrating with anger.

‘It’s his first game and it matters to him. He needs us to be there, all of us! You can’t abandon your brother like that!’

‘Shut up!’

At the same time that he shouted that, Athos shoved Aramis. Before he realised what he did, Porthos pounced on him, as did Aramis. For the first time, they fought to actually hurt the other. 

Suddenly, they were pulled apart and facing a very angry Treville. Athos and Porthos were both starting to show bruises, while Aramis sported a split lip. 

‘Explain, now.’

‘Athos shoved Aramis and then I hit him.’

‘Athos, why did you shove Aramis?’

‘Because I told him to shut up.’

‘Aramis, why did Athos tell you to shut up?’

‘Because I told him he can’t abandon a brother.’

Treville sighed. He understood where Porthos and Aramis were coming from, since he didn’t agree with Athos’ decision either. But he knew that forcing Athos to go to the game wouldn’t work. It would be better if the boy would realise for himself what the consequences of his actions were. 

‘Alright, I want you three to apologize to each other. And I mean now.’

The boys reluctantly apologized to each other. Treville took Aramis to the bathroom to tend to his split lip. Porthos stormed to his room, while Athos stayed in the living room and turned on the television.   
Later that evening, Athos entered his room to go to bed. D’Artagnan was sitting in bed, staring at him expectantly. Athos ignored him, got ready for bed and turned off the light. Just when he had closed his eyes, he felt a small hand pulling on his arm. 

‘Will you please read a poem to me, ‘Thos? I want to hear the Poison Tree again.’

Athos pushed his brother away. 

‘Leave me alone, I want to sleep.’

D’Artagnan was crestfallen. Silently, he went to Porthos’ and Aramis’ room, hoping to find some comfort there. He was disappointed again when it turned out both of them were asleep already. D’Artagnan didn’t dare to wake them, afraid they would be angry with him too. He slipped into the hallway and looked around. There was still light coming from his daddy’s room. Maybe he could sleep with daddy tonight?

Treville looked up when he heard a soft knock on his door. He opened the door and wasn’t surprised to see d’Artagnan standing on the other side. 

‘Hey buddy, what’s the matter?’

‘Can I sleep with you tonight, daddy? Athos is angry with me and Porthos and Aramis were already asleep and I didn’t want them to be angry with me too.’

Treville smiled comfortingly at his youngest and lifted the boy in his arms. 

‘Of course you can.’

*******

Athos sighed as he drove to the cinema. This whole week had been horrible. He, Porthos and Aramis had been ignoring each other since last Saturday, while d’Artagnan had been avoiding all three of them. He couldn’t wait to just be with Kim for a while. 

When he had arrived, he didn’t see Kim anywhere. He shrugged, he was a bit early after all. Oh well, it gave him the time to buy the tickets. While he did so, his mind kept bothering him with images of d’Artagnan’s disappointed face when Athos announced he wasn’t coming to the game. 

******

Porthos and Aramis were scowling as they joined their dad on the stands. They were still angry with Athos and worried about d’Artagnan. The kid’s mind wasn’t with the game at all, it was with the brother who had broken his promise. 

The game started. When it was d’Artagnan’s turn, the crowd got excited. D’Artagnan’s teammates were covering first, second and third base, so if d’Artagnan made a good hit, they could score a point.   
D’Artagnan walked up to the home plate. Before he took his place, he searched the crowd, in hope of seeing Athos. When he didn’t see his oldest brother, he bit his lip and took his place, getting ready to hit the ball. 

******

Athos checked his watch again. This was becoming annoying. It was almost three o’ clock and Kim was still nowhere in sight. They were going to miss the movie if she didn’t show up soon. After a few more minutes, Athos decided to go looking for Kim. Maybe she was waiting for him in the parking lot. 

When he got outside, his eyes widened in surprise. There was Kim, kissing another boy. At first, Athos felt hurt, but then anger took over. He stalked towards the couple angrily. Kim turned around just as he reached her. 

‘Athos,’ she said. 

‘What the hell are you doing?! Why are you kissing him?!’

She smiled mockingly. 

‘Because he’s my boyfriend. You didn’t think I’d actually wanted to date you, did you? I just needed your math skills, so I could stay on the cheerleading squad. But since my grades are good enough now, I don’t need you anymore. So, it’s over. Can you give me the movie tickets now?’

Athos felt hurt by her speech. He had really liked her and now it turned out she had just been using him. But when her demand for the tickets registered, he got angry again. 

‘No,’ he snarled. ‘I paid for those tickets, I won’t give them to you. Your boyfriend can buy your tickets.’

With that, he stalked to his car and drove off. As he was driving, he began to wonder what he had actually seen in that girl. She was horrible, only concerned with herself and incredibly shallow. She wore too much make-up and so much perfume that you chocked on it. 

Suddenly, he realised what he had done. He had broken his promise to d’Artagnan, to go on a date with an awful girl. 

‘Oh god. I’m a horrible brother.’

He checked his watch. If he drove fast enough, he could be there for the last 30 minutes of the game. 

******

D’Artagnan tried his hardest not to cry. His teammates hated him, as did the crowd. So far, he had missed every single ball, as a batter and as a fielder. Soon, it was his turn as batter again. He wiped the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand but it didn’t help. Everyone was glaring at him. 

‘Your turn, d’Artagnan!’ The coach called. 

As d’Artagnan walked up to the home plate, he could hear the crowd and his teammates groan. His coach jogged towards him and crouched down in front of him. 

‘Okay, d’Artagnan, this is a very important ball. We have boys on the first, second and third base. If you make a good hit, we can win this. You have to focus. Can you do that?’

‘I’ll try, coach.’

The coach nodded, but d’Artagnan could see that the man didn’t believe him. Filled with nerves, the boy reached the home plate and got ready to hit. 

The first ball came and he missed. Everyone around him groaned. The pitcher threw the second ball. D’Artagnan swung but he missed again. His teammates started to yell at him. D’Artagnan bit his lip. He knew everything depended on the third ball. If he missed that one, they would lose the games.

The pitcher got ready to throw the final ball. D’Artagnan could feel the glares from his teammates and the crowd. He could feel the sympathetic looks from his family. Then, he suddenly heard a voice shout: 

‘You can do it, d’Art! I believe in you!’

D’Artagnan’s eyes widened. He knew that voice. It was Athos! His brother came! A grin spread on his face and he gripped the bat tighter. As the pitcher threw the final ball, d’Artagnan took a deep breath. Everything slowed down as the ball came closer. Then, with an almighty swing, he hit the ball so hard it flew out of the field. He dropped the bat and started running as fast as he could. He hit first base, second base, third base and finally, home base. He hit a home run! 

Cheering exploded from the stands as he reached home base. His teammates came running up to him and hugged him. The coach congratulated and praised him. D’Artagnan smiled shyly. 

‘D’Artagnan!’

The boy turned around and saw Porthos and Aramis running towards him. They hugged him and lifted him in the air. 

‘That was awesome!’ Aramis shouted. 

‘You hit a home run, pup! You’re the best!’

Athos hung back as he watched his younger brothers. He didn’t have the right to hug d’Artagnan. He had let his little brother down. Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around and saw his father smiling at him. 

‘Why aren’t you congratulating your brother?’

‘How can I? I broke my promise to him, I let him down. And for what? Some stupid shallow girl who was using me. D’Artagnan has the right to hate me for all eternity. I’m a horrible brother.’

‘But you came, didn’t you?’

‘Yes, but way too late. I should have been here the whole game. I’m so sorry, dad. I shouldn’t have broken my promise.’

‘I’m not angry with you, Athos. You learned that there are consequences to your actions, which is enough for me. As long as you learn your lesson, I’m not angry. But it’s not me you should be apologizing to.’

Athos nodded and slowly made his way over to his brothers. He knew that Porthos and Aramis were still angry with him, but he had no idea what to expect from d’Artagnan. The kid would have every right to be angry. Finally, he reached his brothers. 

Porthos was the first to notice him.

‘Look who showed up. What, did the movie end early?’

Athos sighed and hung his head in shame. 

‘No, I didn’t go to the movie. I found out Kim was just using me to get a good grade in math, so she could stay on the cheerleading squad.’

‘And then your family was suddenly good enough again? If you hadn’t found out, you wouldn’t have come at all, would you?’

Athos shook his head, burning with guilt. God, he had really failed his brothers. When he looked up, Aramis was standing next to Porthos. The glare he received from the twelve-year old was the angriest one he had ever seen. 

‘Do you have any idea how hard this was for d’Artagnan? You promised him you would be here and then you go and break that promise, breaking his heart in the process. He has not only been avoiding you this whole week, but me and Porthos as well. And during the game, he missed every single ball because he was distracted with you not being here! Everyone was yelling and glaring at him, I even saw one of his teammates shove him! Do you have any idea what would have happened if he hadn’t hit that final ball? His team would have blamed him for the loss and he would have been bullied for weeks! And all of that would have been your fault! But that’s not even the worst!’

Athos and Porthos stared at him in surprise. What could possibly have been worse than that? 

‘No, the worst is that he would have forgiven you! He wouldn’t hate you, wouldn’t even have blamed you. He would’ve kept quiet so you could be happy with that awful girlfriend of yours! You don’t deserve his forgiveness!’

Aramis’ words hurt so bad that Athos couldn’t breathe for a moment. In that moment, he truly realised how badly he had messed up. His cheeks burned with shame. 

‘I’m so, so sorry. I should have listened to you. I should never have hit you. Can you ever forgive me?’

Before either could answer, d’Artagnan poked his head out from behind Porthos’ legs. 

‘Athos?’ he asked in a small voice. 

Athos swallowed and looked at his little brother. For the first time, he saw the hurt in the boy’s eyes. The hurt he had caused. Unable to look at those eyes, he looked down. He inhaled sharply when he saw an angry dark bruise on d’Artagnan’s wrist. 

‘Where did you get that bruise, d’Art?’

D’Artagnan looked at his wrist and fingered the bruise. 

‘Kim gave me that when she threw me out of my room during hide and seek.’

Athos didn’t have to look at Porthos and Aramis to know that they were even more angry with him. He sighed and looked at d’Artagnan’s eyes again. 

‘D’Artagnan, I’m so sorry. I-I should have never broken my promise. I will do anything to make it up to you. I will read the Poison Tree to you five times every night, if you want me to.’

D’Artagnan frowned at him. 

‘Why? I know you don’t like to do things for me, so why would I want you too? It’s not always about me, you want to do things for you.’

Athos’ heart broke when he heard d’Artagnan repeat the words he had said in anger. One look at those brown eyes told him exactly how much those words had hurt his brother. D’Artagnan didn’t have to say anything else for Athos to know the boy had thought himself a burden to his brothers after hearing those words. 

Athos knelt down in front of d’Artagnan, tears burning his eyes. 

‘D’Artagnan, listen to me. I never meant any of those things. I wasn’t thinking when I said that, I was just frustrated. I know those words made you think you’re a burden, which was probably the reason you avoided all of us. But you could never, ever, be a burden to any of us. You’re our little brother, the boy who is way too forgiving. I should have said no to Kim, should have come to your game. I know I don’t have the right to ask this from you, but could you ever forgive me for what I did?’

For a long time, d’Artagnan didn’t say anything. He looked at Porthos and Aramis, who seemed to lose their anger towards Athos, now that he was literally on his knees begging for forgiveness. Aramis whispered something to Porthos, who nodded and stepped forward. 

‘Athos, we really hate what you did. You broke your promise, you shoved Aramis and you made d’Art think he’s a burden to us.’

Athos winced. They were never going to forgive him, he didn’t deserve it. His brothers were going to hate him forever. Tears slowly started to stream down his face. 

‘But,’ Porthos continued. ‘In the end, you did show up. You gave the pup the encouragement he needed to hit that home run. And we know you’re really sorry, seeing as you are begging on your knees. So, if the pup forgives you, we forgive you too.’

They all turned to d’Artagnan, who had been looking at Porthos. When Porthos finished his little speech, the six-year old looked at Athos. He took in the tears, the hanging head and the shame radiating off his oldest brother. Tears started to pool in his brown eyes. Suddenly, he jumped forward and hugged Athos fiercely. 

‘Promise you’ll never forget it again and I’ll forgive you.’

Athos was so shocked that it took him a moment to react. But once he got over the surprise, he hugged his little brother back. 

‘I promise. Your games will always be more important than a date with some girl.’

‘Then we forgive you too.’ Aramis said. 

Porthos and Aramis then joined the hug. Athos thanked the lord above for having such forgiving little brothers. He then swore to himself that he would never break a promise to his brothers again.


	12. What's sex?

Porthos arrived at a rather quiet home. It unnerved him greatly, since he knew that both Aramis and d’Artagnan were home. Those two were never quiet, unless they were asleep. 

Porthos dumped his stuff under the coat rack and went upstairs. He decided to check on d’Artagnan first. The boy turned out to be in his and Athos’ bedroom, doing his homework. He turned around when he heard Porthos enter.

‘Porthos! You’re home!’

D’Artagnan ran up to his brother and hugged him excitedly. 

‘Hey pup. Where is Aramis?’

‘In his room. Do you know what we’re having for dinner?’

‘I have no idea. Are you nearly finished with your homework?’

‘Yup. It’s easy.’

‘That’s good. Do you think you could help me with French when you’re done? You can just come to my room.’

‘Sure. I’ll be done soon.’

Porthos nodded and went to his and Aramis’ bedroom through the bathroom, leaving the doors open. He was greeted by music Aramis was listening to on the laptop they shared. Porthos’ eyes widened when he recognized the song Aramis was listening to. He stalked over and cuffed Aramis on the head. The twelve-year old turned around, scowling. 

‘What was that for?’

‘You know what! Why the heck are you listening to Talk Dirty?’

‘I heard about it at school. And you listen to it too.’

Porthos sighed and sat down next to his brother. He knew he was dead if his dad found out Aramis was listening to a song he had banned from the house. Oh well, as long as Aramis kept his mouth shut, they were safe. 

‘How was school?’

‘It was fine. I got an A for my science test.’

Porthos high-fived him and they continued to listen to the song. They both jumped when they heard a voice behind them ask:

‘What’s sex?’

Both boys turned around and saw d’Artagnan standing in the doorway to the bathroom. Aramis was the first to recover from the shock. 

‘Why are you asking, pup?’

‘In the song you’re listening to, I heard them say inte-intenasionel or-oral sex. What does that mean?’

Porthos mentally face-palmed when he realised d’Artagnan had been listening. Dad was so going to kill Aramis and him! He quickly walked over and crouched down in front of d’Artagnan. 

‘It’s something boring, pup. You really don’t want to know. But you have to promise me that you won’t ask dad about it. Will you promise me?’

‘I promise. Do you still want my help?’

‘Of course. We’re reading a book in class and I need to finish the first two chapters. I thought we could read together.’

D’Artagnan cheered in enthusiasm and dove on Porthos’ bed, while asking questions about the book. His older brothers sighed in relief as it seemed d’Artagnan had forgotten all about the word ‘sex’. And even if the kid would remember, he had promised he wouldn’t ask their dad about it. At least they would avoid punishment this time. 

******

‘Dinner’s ready!’ 

Treville watched as his sons came running downstairs and into the kitchen. They all sat down and for a while, there was only the sound of eating. Eventually, Treville asked how their day had been. Aramis answered first, always eager to talk. 

‘I got an A for my science test.’

‘Well done, Aramis. I’m proud of you. How about you, Porthos?’

‘I had P.E. which is always fun. And we’ve started with reading in French.’

‘Which book?’ Athos asked. 

‘Le petit prince. We have to finish the first two chapters as homework.’

‘Let me know if you need any help,’ Treville said. ‘D’Artagnan, did you have fun at school?’

‘Comme ci comme ça. Nothing special.’

‘Okay. And you, Athos? You looked annoyed when you got home.’

‘I got a D- for geometry. I hate that subject.’

‘That’s too bad. You worked so hard for it. Do you want me to help you study for the next test?’

Athos nodded. For a while, it was quiet again. Suddenly, d’Artagnan turned to Athos and asked innocently:

‘Athos, what’s sex?’

The sixteen-year old had unfortunately just taken a big gulp of water and he spit it out in shock, while Treville chocked on his food. While thumping Treville on the back, Athos stared at his youngest brother. 

‘Where did you hear that word?’

Porthos and Aramis were shaking their heads at d’Artagnan, but the little boy answered, ignorant of the havoc he was wreaking. 

‘Porthos and Aramis were listening to a song when I came into their room. In the song, people said inte-intenasionel oral sex. What does that mean?’

Aramis banged his head on the table, while Porthos tried to avoid the glare Athos was giving him. Porthos decided that, before he would inevitably be murdered by his father and older brother, he had to find out why d’Artagnan broke his promise. 

‘Pup! You promised you wouldn’t ask anyone about it!’

D’Artagnan frowned, still unaware of the trouble he was creating for his brothers.

‘No, you made me promise I wouldn’t ask daddy about it. You never said anything about Athos.’

Porthos and Aramis both face-palmed at that. They should have been more specific with the pup. They should have known he would ask Athos about it. Treville stood up and Porthos and Aramis considered making a run for it when he said:

‘Aramis, Porthos, I need to speak with you in the hallway. Now.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation  
> Comme ci comme ça: so, so.   
> As for the book Porthos had to read, I was actually required to read that for French when I was fourteen. So I assumed it would be possible for him too. My apologies if that's not the case.


	13. Best friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter was actually written after someone send me a request on Fanfiction. They wanted a chapter about Aramis learning that a person can have more than one best friend. I fulfilled to the best of my capabilities.

‘Dinnertime!’ 

No sooner had the word left Treville’s mouth or a stampede could be heard on the stairs. A moment later, d’Artagnan came running into the kitchen, screaming his head off, while Athos was hot on his heels. Treville didn’t feel the need to intervene, since both the boys had a smile on their faces. Only when Athos had caught his youngest brother and held the boy upside down, did Treville come to d’Artagnan’s aid and plucked him from his brother’s arms, plopping the six-year old on his chair. 

‘Where are Porthos and Aramis?’

Athos shrugged and sat down. 

‘I don’t know. Porthos came home but left soon after and Aramis has locked himself inside their bedroom again. I tried to talk to him but he just ignored me.’

Treville sighed. After a long day at work, he had hoped for a quiet evening, maybe watch some Top Gear with his sons. But it seemed that was not to be. Suddenly, the back door opened and closed and Porthos burst into the kitchen. He was panting heavily and he looked apologetic. 

‘Hey dad. Sorry I’m so late, I forgot the time.’

‘That’s fine son, sit down. I’m gonna get Aramis.’

After a lot of coaxing and threatening with punishment, Aramis got downstairs and joined them at dinner. As was usual in the Treville household, the first few minutes of dinner were silent, as everyone dug into their food. 

‘Alright boys, how was school?’

Athos was the first to answer. 

‘I got my test back from Advanced Marketing. I got an A!’

‘Good job! D’Artagnan, how was your day?’

‘It was fun. We’re learning how to tell the time. Mr. Wood says I’m very good at it.’

‘I’m glad to hear that. Porthos, please tell me where you were when you forgot the time.’

Porthos smiled. 

‘I was with my new friend, Charon. Remember, I told you about him.’

‘Ah yes, aren’t you on the football team with him?’

‘Yup. Can he come over tomorrow?’

‘Sure, as long as you actually do your homework. Will he stay for dinner?’

‘I don’t know. I’ll ask him.’

Treville nodded and turned towards Aramis. When he saw the boy glaring at his plate and stabbing the food like it had personally offended him, he decided to talk to the boy later. 

After dinner, Aramis immediately went upstairs, without saying a word to anyone. 

‘Hey!’ d’Artagnan called after him. ‘That’s not fair! You have to do the dishes with me!’

‘Come on, d’Art,’ Athos said. ‘I’ll help you instead.’

******

Aramis stayed in his room for the rest of the evening and treated Porthos icily. The next morning was even worse, he snarled at Athos and pushed d’Artagnan over. Treville got fed up with it and pulled him into the hallway to talk to him privately. 

‘Aramis, what in the world is going on with you?’

‘Nothing. I don’t wanna talk about it.’

Treville wanted to push further but a glance at his watch told him the boys were going to be late if they didn’t leave now. So he said goodbye to his sons and they all went their ways. Before dropping Aramis off at middle school, Athos reminded him that he had to pick up d’Artagnan after school. 

When school ended, Aramis slowly walked home. He felt perfectly awful. He didn’t want Porthos’ friend to come over and he definitely didn’t want him to stay for dinner. Why did his brother need a new friend anyway? Wasn’t Aramis enough? He gasped when he realised that thought. Maybe that was it. Perhaps, Porthos had enough of him and didn’t want him as his best friend anymore. 

The thought haunted Aramis all the way home and drove him upstairs. He kicked his bed in anger and threw his bag through the room. He sat down on the ground and scowled. There was no way he was going to let Porthos’ new friend in his bedroom. He grabbed a chair and pushed it against the door, which he then proceeded to lock. He then went to the other door to the bathroom and locked it as well. After having done that, he sat down at his desk and started with his homework. 

About an hour later, the front door opened and closed, laughter drifting upstairs. A sudden shout made Aramis jump. 

‘Aramis, get down here!’

Aramis clenched his fists. Porthos sounded angry. Well, he wasn’t going to be commanded by his older brother. 

‘No!’ He shouted back. 

‘Yes! If you don’t come down, I’ll tell dad you forgot about the pup!’

Aramis growled and stormed downstairs, after having unlocked the door. When he got to the living room, d’Artagnan was sitting on the couch with an unfamiliar teenager. When he noticed Aramis, d’Artagnan jumped up from the couch and ran up to him. 

‘Hi ‘Mis! You forgot to pick me up so Porthos and his friend picked me up instead. Porthos’ friend bought me an ice- cream and then he let me ride on his shoulders. I like him a lot, but I forgot his name. It’s a hard name.’

The unfamiliar teenager, who was apparently Porthos’ new friend, got up from the couch as well and walked over to them. He was dark skinned, darker than Porthos, with brown eyes and black hair. He smiled friendly and held out his hand to Aramis. 

‘Hi, you must be Aramis. My name is Charon, I’m Porthos’ friend.’

Aramis glared at him and ignored the extended hand. Charon awkwardly let his fall to the side and scratched the back of his head. 

‘So, Porthos said you might be willing to help us with our Spanish homework? I suck at it so I’d love to get some help.’

‘If you’re not good at it, you shouldn’t take it. I only help people that I like and you’re not one of them.’

‘Aramis!’ shouted Porthos and Athos, who had just gotten home. 

Aramis whirled around and glared at his older brothers, who were standing in the doorway with drinks in their hands. 

‘What? I don’t like him and I don’t want him here! If he’s bad at Spanish, he shouldn’t have taken the subject. I’m not going to help him out because he’s stupid!’

Before anyone could say something, Aramis stormed upstairs. Charon glanced around the room, feeling very awkward. Athos sighed and gave d’Artagnan his drink, both of them sitting down on the couch. Porthos walked over to Charon and handed him a glass of soda. 

‘Did I do something wrong?’ Charon asked. 

‘No, you didn’t. Aramis has been like this since last week and he won’t talk about it. Just ignore him for now.’

******

Even though he had gotten along greatly with Athos and d’Artagnan, Charon decided not to stay for dinner after all. He didn’t want to cause anymore tension in the house, since Aramis had been very harsh every time they ran into each other. When Treville got home, Porthos was punching a cushion, while Athos and d’Artagnan were outside. 

‘Porthos, where is Charon? I thought he was staying for dinner.’

Porthos looked up, anger burning in his eyes. 

‘He was but Aramis ruined it. He was incredibly rude to Charon and made it really awkward. What the hell is wrong with him?!’

Treville mentally face-palmed when he realised the core of the problem. Aramis had starting acting coldly and harsh since Porthos announced he had made a new friend. He should have realised it sooner, then he could have talked to the boys. 

‘Porthos, remember when you first came to live with us? Do you remember how Aramis sometimes acted?’

Porthos frowned and thought deeply. 

‘Yeah, he was a bit mean sometimes. But when we talked to him, he said he was jealous because he was afraid you didn’t want him anymore. He thought you were going to replace….oh.’

Realisation dawned on Porthos’ face and he stared at his dad. 

‘He’s jealous of Charon, isn’t he?’

Treville nodded, glad Porthos came to the conclusion himself. 

‘I’m gonna talk to Aramis, is that okay?’

‘Go ahead. If it doesn’t work, let me know.’

Porthos nodded and ran upstairs. He knocked on the door and sighed when he heard a muffled ‘go away’. 

‘Hey, ‘Mis, it’s me. I need to talk to you.’

He got no reaction so he just pushed the door open. It was his room as well, after all. He didn’t really need permission to enter his own room, right? Aramis was lying on his bed, his face buried in the pillow and his shoulders shaking. Porthos walked over and sat down on the edge. 

‘I’m really flattered that you’re crying over me, ‘Mis.’

Aramis growled and tried to push him away without looking. 

‘Leave me alone. I don’t wanna talk.’

‘Well, tough luck, because we have to. You’re jealous of Charon, aren’t you?’

Aramis bolted upright and glared at him with red-rimmed eyes. 

‘I’m not! Just leave me alone!’

‘Right, so you’re not afraid I’m gonna replace you with Charon?’

That seemed to be the trigger, for Aramis started to snivel. 

‘I don’t want you to be best friends with Charon. We’re best friends and I don’t want to lose you. If you’re best friends with Charon, then I don’t have a best friend anymore and I don’t want that. I don’t want you to replace me with somebody else.’

The explanation ended in a sob. Porthos sighed sympathetically. 

‘Aramis, don’t you know a person can have more than one best friend? I can be best friends with Charon and you. I’m not gonna replace you with anybody, you’re my brother and number one best friend.   
So, you don’t have to be jealous.’

‘Really?’

‘I promise. How can I replace you? You’re the first friend I ever had.’

Aramis smiled and he hugged Porthos. The fourteen-year old gladly hugged him back and smiled in relief. 

‘I’m sorry I was so mean to Charon,’ Aramis said. ‘Can I apologize to him tomorrow?’

‘Sure you can. Just come to the football practice.’

******

Aramis nervously fidgeted in the parking lot as he waited for Porthos and Charon to leave the school. He hoped Charon wouldn’t be angry with him, or really hurt. That would be awful, since he really seemed like a nice guy. 

When they finally appeared, Aramis immediately ran up to them. Charon frowned at him in surprise. 

‘Hi, Charon,’ Aramis nervously began. ‘I want to apologize for my behaviour. I was really mean to you yesterday and you didn’t deserve that. See, I was scared Porthos was going to replace me with you and that was why I was so mean to you. I didn’t want to lose my best friend. But, Porthos said you can have more than one best friend, so I want to apologize. I’m really sorry and I hope you’ll forgive me. I could help with your Spanish homework to make it up to you.’

Charon chuckled. 

‘You don’t have to do that. I can understand where you were coming from. So, as long as you’re not jealous anymore, we’re cool.’

‘Awesome!’ Aramis exclaimed. ‘You should come over for dinner tonight. We’re ordering pizza and I could help you guys with your homework.’

‘Sounds good to me. Porthos, what do you say?’

Porthos grinned. 

‘I think it’s a great idea. Let’s go before Athos and d’Artagnan have commandeered the tv remote. I don’t want to spend my evening watching l’épervier again.'

Charon frowned. 

'What's wrong with that show? Athos told me about it yesterday, it sounds great to me.'

'Oh, it is. But it's a French show.'

'So? Why does that matter?'

Aramis grinned and shook his head. 

'They watch it without subtitles.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick message! L'Epervier is an actual French show and it's amazing! If you like pirates, I would defintely recommend it.


	14. Athos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ages: Athos is 17, Porthos 15, Aramis 13 and d'Artagnan 7.   
> I also want to apologize for any medical errors or other mistakes in this chapter. I did my best to keep it as realistic as possible but I'm afraid my knowledge of these things is rather limited.

‘Athos, can you read me another story?’

‘Sure, little brother, which one do you want to hear?’

The little boy frowned as he thought deeply and smiled excitedly when he found an answer. 

‘Le petit prince!’

Athos smiled. He took the book from his bag and opened it on his lap. His brother snuggled into his side as he started to read the first chapter. Halfway through the book, Athos noticed his little brother had fallen asleep. He smiled and put the book away, wrapping both his arms around the boy and closing his eyes. 

His eyes flew open when he heard tires screeching and a loud scream. Something hard hit them in the side and the next Athos knew, the car was flipping over. He closed his eyes and tightened his grip on his little brother, unconsciously bracing himself. 

A hard hit dazed him, and for a while he couldn’t hear or see. When he regained his senses, he noticed he was hanging upside down. Next to him, he heard a quiet sob. He turned his head to his left and saw his little brother in the same position as himself. Carefully, Athos reached for his brother’s hand. 

‘Sssh, petit frère, il va être OK.’

‘J’ai peur, Athos.’

‘Je sais, mais je te promets que nous allons être bien.’ 

For a little while, it was quiet in the car. Athos softly squeezed his brother’s hand and whispered comforting words, while trying not be scared himself. He had to remain strong for his little brother. His brother needed him. 

‘Athos, ça fait mal. J’ai sommeil. Je peux aller dormir s’il te plaît?’ 

Athos smiled reassuringly at his little brother. 

‘You can sleep if it hurts. I’ll wake you up when they save us.’

His little brother nodded and closed his eyes, immediately falling asleep. Athos bit his lip and prayed that help would come soon. Suddenly, he realised he hadn’t heard his mother at all. 

‘Maman? Tu m’entends?’

When he didn’t get a response, he started to panic. He tried to unfasten his seatbelt but failed. His breathing became erratic and his knuckles turned white because of the force with which he clenched his hands. He whipped his head to the right when he heard voices outside of the car. A man appeared inside and sighed in relief when he noticed Athos. 

‘I found a boy! He’s alive!’

The next thing Athos knew, people had gotten him out of the car and a medic was checking him over. 

‘No,’ He mumbled. ‘My brother, you have to safe my brother.’

‘Don’t worry, they’re pulling him out of the car now.’

When that registered, Athos pushed himself up. He gasped when he saw the car. It was completely wrecked. Worry overtook him when he saw people getting his brother out of the car and handing the boy over to the medics. Athos pushed himself towards them, he had to get to his brother. 

One of the medics pushed his brother’s chest and another breathed into his mouth. Why were they doing that? Didn’t they know his little brother was hurt? They had to help him, not hurt him more!   
Just as he had reached them, the medics shook their heads and stood up, one of them looking at their watch. 

‘Time of death, 3:30 pm.’

‘NO!’ Athos cried. 

He pushed through the medics and to his little brother. Landing on his knees, he grabbed his little brother’s body and hugged him. 

‘No, you can’t be dead. You went to sleep, you didn’t die.’

People tried to take his brother from him but he growled at them. 

‘Don’t touch him! Sssh, little brother, it’s gonna be okay. I promise, you’re gonna be okay.’

He had started to zone out but one sentence froze him completely. 

‘The mother’s dead too. Her neck and spine are broken, she died instantly.’

Tears burned Athos’ eyes and streamed down his face. A snivel escaped him. His maman, his petit frère, they were gone. He would never see them again. 

‘You can’t be dead, Thomas, you can’t be. Please come back.’

He sobbed unconsolably, holding onto his brother’s body like a lifeline. 

‘COME BACK!’ He suddenly screamed, scaring everyone around him. 

******

Treville startled when he heard the scream. He immediately got up and went to the bedroom the sound had come from. Looking around, he saw Athos thrashing and screaming. He quickly sat down on the bed and gathered the teenager in his arms. 

‘Sssh, Athos, it’s okay. You’re safe, everything’s okay.’

It took some time to get Athos to wake up, and when he did, he started crying. He buried his head in Treville’s shoulder and cried inconsolably. Treville carded a hand through the brown locks and whispered words of comfort. 

Finally, after almost an hour, Athos stopped crying and looked up. His piercing blue eyes were pools of sorrow and heartbreak. His face was pale and tear tracks were clearly visible. An occasional hiccup escaped him. 

‘What happened, son?’ Treville asked in a soft voice. 

‘Nightmare. About the car-crash.’

Treville didn’t need to know anymore, he just hugged his son close. Athos relaxed ever so slightly and melted in the embrace. Suddenly, they were joined in the hug by three worried little brothers. Porthos wrapped a comforting arm around Athos’ shoulders, while Aramis curled into his side. D’Artagnan wiggled himself between Athos and Treville, wrapping his arms around the former’s middle and leaning against his chest. 

Athos sighed and felt himself fully relax. The feeling of his family close by, alive and safe, assured him that everything was alright. The demons of his nightmare retreated, surrendering to the family that was chasing them away. He knew exactly why the nightmare had appeared. Today was the 10th anniversary of his mother’s and Thomas’ death. Even though his new family had helped him to come to terms with it, their deaths still haunted him on these days. 

Aramis, who noticed his brother was still sad, decided to try and lighten his mood. He softly nudged Athos. 

‘I know you wanted us to get up early this Saturday, but you don’t have to give me a heart attack for that. Besides, it’s barely even morning, unacceptable.’

Athos chuckled softly and Aramis grinned in victory. He knew today was going to be a heavy day for his brother and he wanted to make it as easy as possible for him. 

******

Athos sighed as they entered the graveyard. Dark thoughts tried to capture his mind, whispering things like ‘It’s your fault’. With great effort, he pushed them away and focused on his brothers’ presence. Originally, their dad was supposed to come with them, but an emergency at work had prevented him from coming. 

When they reached the graves of his mother and brother, Athos felt his brothers getting closer to him, surrounding him with their silent comfort. Gently, they kneeled down and stayed silent as Athos placed flowers on the graves. 

‘Hey mom, hey Thomas. I suppose today is sort of special. It’s been ten years since the car-crash, ten long years since I lost you. And I’m so sorry, for everything I forgot to say. For everything I could not do with you, Thomas. For every experience you missed, mom.’

Athos felt a lump form in his throat, but pressed on. He was not going to surrender to his tears, not now. He still had to do something. 

‘I brought you another poem. I picked this one from the book Porthos gave me for Brother’s Day three years ago. Maybe you’ve already heard it, mom, but I’m sure you won’t mind hearing it again.’

Aramis carefully handed him the book, bookmark already on the right page. 

‘Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me,   
Knowing thy heart torment me with disdain,   
Have put on black, and loving mourners be,  
Looking with pretty ruth upon my pain.   
And truly not the morning sun of heaven  
Better becomes the grey cheeks of the east,   
Nor that full star that ushers in the even   
Doth half that glory to the sober west,   
As those two mourning eyes become thy face.   
O, let it then as well beseem thy heart,   
To mourn for me, since mourning doth thee grace,  
And suit thy pity like in every part.  
Then will I swear beauty herself is black,  
And all they foul that thy complexion lack.’

The words were a steady flow, soothing him and firmly keeping the guilt at bay. When he had finished the poem, his sadness came back at full force. But the feeling of his brothers being there with him, allowed Athos to keep the guilt away and just be sad.

For a while, it was completely silent. Even the birds didn’t make a sound. Athos grieved silently and the others were quiet to honour his sadness for the family he had lost. At some point, they got lost in thought, remembering their own losses. Finally, Athos stood up, letting the others know he was ready to leave. 

In the car, Aramis send Athos a look, silently asking him if it was okay to talk now. When the oldest brother nodded, Aramis nudged d’Artagnan. 

‘How about we continue our Spanish lessons? Can you introduce yourself to me? Oh, Porthos, you are hereby ordered to join this lesson!’

Porthos grumbled half-heartedly, making d’Artagnan giggle. They kept it quiet though, not wanting to bother Athos. His eyes were still mourning and they respected that. 

The ride went easy enough, until Porthos suddenly shouted:

‘Athos! Look out!’

An oncoming vehicle had suddenly swerved into their lane and was going to hit their car full on at the side. Athos yanked the steering wheel to prevent it, but he wasn’t fast enough to completely avoid the other car. Instead of hitting the side, it hit the behind of the car. The force was such that Athos completely lost control of the wheel and the car flipped over. A scream could be heard and then everything went dark. 

******

Athos groaned as he regained consciousness. There was something putting pressure on his face and chest, and he didn’t like it. He tried to open his eyes to see it was, but his eyelids weren’t cooperating. Suddenly, he heard a voice behind him. 

‘Athos? Porthos? Can you hear me?’

He recognized that voice. It was Aramis. The panic in the boy’s voice made his eyes pop open. He noticed that the pressure came from the airbag. And then he remembered what had happened. Worry immediately overtook him. 

‘I can hear you, Aramis. Are you okay?’

Aramis sighed in relief. 

‘More or less. Can you see Porthos?’

Just as Athos turned to the right to check, Porthos answered. 

‘I can hear you, Aramis. I’m okay. How is the pup?’

‘I don’t know. He’s not responding.’

Athos immediately tried to undo his seatbelt, as did Porthos. They got loose at the same time and made sure to land as safely as they could. Still, they cut their hands on some shards of glass. Very carefully, they crawled to the back of the car. 

Both Aramis and d’Artagnan were hanging upside down. Aramis looked relatively unhurt, just scared and worried. Athos was suddenly reminded of the car-crash from ten years ago. The memories immediately tried to take over but Athos pushed them away. His brothers needed him, now was not the time to remember bad things. 

‘Porthos, I need you to get ‘Mis down. Make sure you do it very carefully, don’t let him fall. I’ll get the pup.’

Porthos nodded and they both set to work. Just as he had gotten the boy down, d’Artagnan opened his eyes. 

‘Wha’s goin’ ‘n, ‘Thos?’ 

‘I’ll tell you soon, just stay still.’

He turned to Porthos, who was embracing Aramis and studying the car at the same time. He could notice the fifteen-year old was scared of something. 

‘What’s wrong, Porthos?’

Panicked eyes met him and Porthos’ voice sounded panicky too. 

‘We have to get out of the car, now! I can’t see if there’s any gasoline leaking, but if there is, we’re in danger.’

They both franticly looked around for an exit. Suddenly, Aramis pointed towards back window. 

‘We can crawl through there. The glass is broken and we can fit through.’

The older two wasted no time and crawled to the window. Porthos got out first and guided Aramis out. Next was d’Artagnan, whom Athos handed to Porthos through the exit. Athos quickly crawled out after his brothers and helped Porthos to get their youngest a safe distance from the car. 

Aramis immediately started to check d’Artagnan over, who looked the worst out of them all. He had his eyes closed and Aramis gently tapped him on the cheek to get him to open them. When he did, they immediately filled with tears. Athos and Porthos knelt down next to them, the former grabbing one of d’Artagnan’s hands. 

‘Hurts, ‘Thos.’ He whimpered. 

‘I know it does, but you’re going to be okay. You trust us, don’t you?’

‘Uh-huh. I’m ti’ed, c’n I go t’ sleep?’

‘NO!’ Athos shouted. 

His brothers jumped at his sudden outburst. Athos didn’t notice it, he was too much reminded of Thomas. He had allowed Thomas to go to sleep and the boy had never woken up again. He was not going to make that same mistake with d’Artagnan. He was not going to lose a little brother again. 

Suddenly, his mind was crystal clear and he knew exactly what to do. 

‘I’m going to try to get us some help. Aramis, d’Artagnan has to stay awake. He cannot go to sleep. I don’t care what you have to do, but he can’t sleep. Understood?’

Aramis nodded and Athos started to search for his phone. D’Artagnan’s slurring worried him, as did Porthos’ words about the car. They had to get help, now. Finally, he found his phone and he quickly called the emergency number. 

‘911, what’s your emergency?’

******

Treville burst into the hospital, nearly colliding with the front desk. The receptionist gave him a weird look. 

‘I’m here for my sons, Athos, Porthos, Aramis and d’Artagnan Treville. They were in a car-crash.’

The woman nodded in understanding and looked at her computer. 

‘d’Artagnan is still being examined. The other three are in room 213B.’

Treville thanked her and quickly made his way to the room. When he walked in, a nurse was keeping the boys company. She looked worn-out and his sons didn’t look much better. Aramis was the first to notice him. 

‘Dad!’

He ran up to Treville and clung tightly to him. Treville rubbed the boy’s back and looked over at Porthos and Athos. They wasted no time and ran to him, joining the hug. Besides from shaken up, the three looked relatively okay. No major wounds as far as he could see. 

The hug lasted for at least 5 minutes, none of them quite willing to let go. The nurse eventually interrupted the silence. 

‘Your sons have some cuts and bruises, we took care of that as best as we could. As soon as they’re done with d’Artagnan, we will bring him to this room.’

Treville thanked her and she left. The family sat down and Treville sighed. 

‘Tell me what happened, please.’

Porthos and Aramis looked at Athos, who bit his lip hard, clearly struggling. When it became evident the 17-year old wasn’t ready to relive the events, Porthos took over. 

‘We were driving back home and I suddenly saw an oncoming car. It looked like the driver was drunk or something and then he swerved into our lane. I warned Athos and he tried to steer away, but the other car still hit the back from ours. I think we flipped over, ‘cause when I woke up, we were hanging upside down.’

‘We did flip over,’ Aramis said. ‘I didn’t get knocked out and I saw the other stop as well. The driver came to our car and I asked him to help us but he just left. It was really quiet and I got scared.   
D’Artagnan didn’t answer so I called to Athos and Porthos. They eventually did respond but d’Artagnan stayed unconscious much longer than the rest of us. I think he hit his head at some point.’  
Treville’s fists clenched in anger when Aramis mentioned the other driver leaving his sons when they clearly needed help. He couldn’t wait to put that bastard in jail. That is, if he could find out who was responsible. 

‘Did any of you see his license plate?’

‘I did,’ Aramis said. ‘It was ATX-8419.’

Treville stored that information away for later. His sons were his first priority, they went above all else. He noticed Athos had zoned out and it wasn’t rocket science for him to know where the teenager had gone. 

‘Athos!’

It did the trick and Athos looked at him. 

‘This is not, in any way, your fault.’

Tears pooled in Athos’ eyes and a heart-wrenching sob escaped him. 

‘It is. It’s my fault that Thomas died and it’s my fault my brothers are in the hospital.’

Treville stood up and grabbed Athos’ shoulders, staring hard into the guilty blue eyes. 

‘Athos, you are not to blame. You did everything you could, both with Thomas and d’Artagnan. Nobody thinks it’s your fault.’

Athos broke free of Treville’s hold and backed away. 

‘How can you say that?! I told Thomas he could go to sleep and he didn’t wake up! I killed him!’

Aramis gasped. Now he understood why Athos had reacted so strongly when d’Artagnan asked if he could go to sleep. He was afraid that history would repeat itself. 

‘You didn’t kill him, Athos. You were 7 years old, you didn’t know any better! If anyone is to blame, it’s the person who hit your mother’s car.’

His surroundings became a blur, as Athos’ memories replayed themselves. Past and present collided with each other, Thomas’ lifeless body became Porthos, Aramis and d’Artagnan. He started to breathe faster, his vision started to grey and the world started to spin. Suddenly, his knees buckled, and he would have fallen if his dad hadn’t caught him. 

‘Breathe, son, you’ve got to breathe. Deep breaths, like me.’

It took some time to calm Athos down again, as he kept zoning out. Treville’s heart broke when heard his oldest mumbling ‘Thomas’ over and over again. The car-crash itself had been hard enough, but it happened on the same date as the crash that had taken the lives of his mother and little brother. 

When the teenager finally did calm down, he was so utterly spend that he fell asleep immediately. With some help from Porthos, Treville carefully laid his oldest down on the bed. Aramis insisted on covering his brother with the blankets, so Treville let him. After that, the 13-year old climbed on the bed and laid down next to Athos, saying it would help the older brother to keep the nightmares at bay. That convinced Porthos to sleep on Athos’ other side, while Treville sat down on a chair next to the bed, waiting for his youngest son and keeping an eye on the other three.

******

Athos woke up to the sound of Porthos and Aramis talking. He also noticed something warm and small curled into his side and he smiled. It wasn’t unusual for Porthos and Aramis to wake them up in weekends. When they did that, d’Artagnan fled to Athos’ bed to get a few more minutes of sleep, because even Porthos and Aramis weren’t bold enough to pull Athos’ blankets of him, just to wake him up in the weekend. They valued their lives too much for that. 

The smile melted of his face when Athos remembered where he was and what had happened. He opened his eyes and looked around. Porthos and Aramis were sitting by the window, talking about something and gesturing outside. His dad was nowhere to be seen, probably had gone for some coffee. Then, he looked down and saw d’Artagnan curled up to him. He could see a few cuts and bruises on his youngest brother, but he couldn’t see the boy’s face. 

‘Hey, Athos.’ 

Athos looked up and saw Aramis standing next to the bed. Porthos was standing behind him, smiling slightly at him. 

‘I wanna say something. I know I cannot make your guilt about Thomas go away, that’s something you have to do yourself. But you have to know that we do not blame you for what happened yesterday. You did everything you could to make sure we were safe. You tried to steer away from the other car. Like dad said, none of this is your fault.’

Athos opened his mouth to argue, but Porthos silenced him with a glare. 

‘No, you know we’re right! I won’t allow you to blame yourself for something that’s not your fault. And I’m sure that Thomas would tell you the same thing. I may not have known him, but I know he would never blame you for his death. So stop blaming yourself! You’re not helping anyone with it!’

Athos bit his lip. He knew Porthos and Aramis were right. He knew that he was not to blame for what happened, at least in his head. But his heart still blamed him, for who else could he blame? He was the one who told Thomas it was okay to go to sleep, therefore causing the little boy to die. And if he had reacted faster, his brothers wouldn’t have ended up in the hospital. 

A small moan made them all look at d’Artagnan. The boy opened his eyes and immediately closed them again, burying his head in Athos’ side. Aramis rushed over to the window and closed the curtains, while Porthos dimmed the lights. 

‘That better, pup?’ Aramis whispered. 

In response, d’Artagnan slowly lifted his head and opened his eyes. Athos winced slightly when he saw the gash on d’Artagnan’s forehead. It had been stitched but it looked painful. More guilt started to wash over him when he realised the boy had a concussion. But before he could start to blame himself again, d’Artagnan tugged on his shirt. 

‘Porthos and ‘Mis are right. ‘S not your fault. Stop blaming yourself.’

‘See,’ Aramis said. ‘Even the pup doesn’t blame you and he got a concussion. So do as he says and stop blaming yourself. We’re still alive, aren’t we?’

And that sentence, that was what Athos needed to push his guilt away. Yes, his brothers were still alive and they didn’t blame him. They were hurt and upset, but alive. And they still wanted to hug him, talk to him and be his brothers. 

When they noticed Athos didn’t argue anymore and had accepted their words, Porthos and Aramis carefully joined the other two on the bed and shared a group hug. Athos sighed as he felt the presence of his brothers, grounding him with their love and warmth. He took his guilt and locked it behind bars, throwing away the key. 

He hadn’t been able to save Thomas, but he had saved the brothers he had now. And that meant a lot to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations  
> Sssh, petit frère, il va être OK: Sssh, little brother, it's going to be okay.  
> J’ai peur, Athos: I'm scared, Athos.   
> Je sais, mais je te promets que nous allons être bien: I know, but I promise you that we are going to be fine.   
> Athos, ça fait mal. J’ai sommeil. Je peux aller dormir s’il te plaît?: Athos, it hurts. I'm tired. Can I please go to sleep?  
> Maman? Tu m’entends?: Mom? Can you hear me?


	15. Aramis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ages: Porthos is 15 and Aramis 13.  
> This is one of the few chapters I'm not really happy with it. I have tried many times to edit it, but my muse just absolutely refuses. Nontheless, I hope you like the chapter.   
> Trigger warning: I'm not sure if it counts as a trigger, but if massacres trigger you, you might want to skip this chapter.

‘Aramis! If I could have your attention, please.’

Aramis looked up when he heard the teacher call his name. The man seemed really annoyed, though Aramis didn’t think that was fair. After all, he wasn’t the one who had to hear the teacher go on and on about something that had happened years ago. 

‘Of course you can have it, but can you keep it?’

The class laughed and Aramis looked smug. The teacher seemed even more annoyed than before, if the vein pulsing on his forehead was anything to go by. 

‘Well, I think this topic should peek your interest. I was discussing the Holocaust. Do you know how the Jews were killed?’

‘Yes sir. A lot were killed by inert gas asphyxiation in the concentration camps, but it’s just one of the many ways they were killed.’

‘So you do know something. Now, I’m sure the most of you know that a lot of children were killed as well. Can any of you imagine the horror of that? Seeing people around you die, before dying as well?’

‘I can, sir.’ Aramis said, tone completely serious now. 

The teacher scoffed. 

‘What could you possibly know about that? Nobody in this class has any experience with mass murder, aside from things you read in books. You have never witnessed a horror like that, none of you!’

‘I have, sir.’

‘Bullshit! You are a spoiled little brat, who knows nothing of the horrors this world contains. You never lost any loved ones, you never experienced any kind of misery. So don’t lie, just to get attention!’

‘I’M NOT LYING!’ Aramis roared. 

The whole class, including the teacher, was shocked into silence after Aramis’ outburst. Aramis had stood up, face red and his eyes burning with anger. Sudden memories overwhelmed him and he felt the walls closing in on him. Everyone stared at him and he couldn’t handle it. He had to get out, away from everyone. 

Before anyone could stop him, Aramis had grabbed his bag and ran out of the class. He burst through the exit, running away from the school as fast as he could. He had to get somewhere quiet, somewhere his memories would leave him alone. Reaching a park, Aramis ran through the gates and to a group of trees that would shield him from the pathway. He sank down to the ground, pulling his knees up and wrapping his arms around them. His body shook with sobs as his memories took over. 

******

‘Buenos días, mi niño.’ (Good morning, my boy)

Aramis yawned as he opened his eyes. His papá was smiling down at him, gently pushing the bangs out of his face. Aramis brought up a small fist to wipe the sleep out of his eyes. 

‘Buenos días, papá.’ (Good morning, daddy)

His papá chuckled and gently lifted him up, ruffling the boy’s hair as he did so. Aramis happily stuck his thumb in his mouth and laid his head on his papá’s shoulder. As he was carried to the kitchen, he enjoyed the smell that always seemed to surround his papá. It was a mix of cinnamon, wood and coffee. It was the smell of home and love. 

He was placed in his seat and there was a plate filled with pancakes in front of him. Aramis’ eyes lit up when he noticed the syrup dripping of his breakfast. 

‘¡Panqueques! Me encanta panqueques.’ (Pancakes! I love pancakes!)

‘Alegra saber, Aramis.’ (I'm glad to hear that, Aramis) 

During breakfast, Aramis told about the dream he had, which included slaying a dragon and saving his papá. His papá laughed and said he was glad that he had such a brave hero for a son.   
They had just finished eating when they heard screaming outside and pounding on the door. His papá grabbed Aramis and was about to run when a voice said:

‘¡Abra esta puerta o nos va a tirar la casa!’ (Open the door or we'll shoot the house!)

His papá set Aramis down and told him to stay behind him. He opened the door and armed men pulled them outside. 

‘¿Hay alguien dentro?’ (Is there anyone else inside?)

‘No, Señor, sólo mi y mi hijo. Mi esposa fallecida hace tres años.’ (No sir, just me and my son. My wife passed away three years ago)

Without another word, they were pushed along to a warehouse, where a lot of other people were as well. Aramis recognized a lot of his friends and their families. Most people were crying and screaming. It scared Aramis and he hid behind his papá. Strong arms lifted him up and hugged him close. 

‘No te asustes, Aramis, que va a estar bien.’ (Don't be scared, Aramis, everything is going to be alright)

At the entrance of the warehouse, a shot was fired, causing everyone to be quiet and look in that direction. A big man was smiling sadistically at them, more armed men behind him. 

‘Welcome, everyone. I’m sure most of you understand English, otherwise you wouldn’t live in America. But to make sure everybody understands me, I shall continue my speech in Spanish. Usted está aquí, porque quiero hacer una declaración. Ver, la policía piensa que está bien arrestar y matar a mis hombres. Hoy en día, les mostrará que no tolerar. Y, para ello, voy a matar a todos.’ (You are here because I want to make a statement. See, the police thinks it's alright to arrest and kill my men. Today, I'm going to show you that I do not tolerate it. And, in order to do that, I'm going to kill you all)

He waved his hand and walked away. As soon as he left, the other men started shooting. People screamed and cried even harder than before. Aramis’ papá knelt down and placed his son in front of him. 

‘Aramis, escúchame. Voy a cubrirte. No se mueven y no hacen un sonido, hasta que llegue la policía. ¿Me entiendes?’ (Aramis, listen to me. I'm going to cover you. You don't move and don't make a sound, until the police arrives. Do you understand me?)

Tears gathered in Aramis eyes and he grabbed his papá’s shirt. 

‘¿Vas a dejarme?’ (Are you going to leave me?)

His papá took Aramis’ face softly between his hands and kissed the boy’s forehead. 

‘Claro que no. Te lo prometo, que siempre velaré por ti. Y algún día, vamos a ver unos a otros otra vez en el cielo. Te amo, mi hijo.’ (Of course not. I promise you, I will always watch over you. And someday, we will see each other again in heaven. I love you, my son)

‘Te amo demasiado, papá.’ (I love you too, daddy)

His papá hugged him close and stood up, shielding Aramis from view. Immediately, the man was shot in the back and he fell down, making sure he covered his son with his body. 

******

Porthos looked around franticly as he crossed the street. Half an hour ago, Aramis’ school had called, telling them Aramis had run away after an argument with the teacher about mass murder. His fist clenched as he thought about the teacher. It stated specifically in Aramis’ personal file, that he should always be given the choice to leave when things like mass murder were discussed. And that stupid idiot of a teacher hadn’t even read the file! 

He sighed as he looked around again. Where the hell was he supposed to find Aramis? He could be anywhere. And then it hit Porthos. The park! He and his brothers had a hiding spot there, a place where nobody could see them from the pathway. He quickly ran into the park and towards the hiding spot. The closer he got, the clearer he could hear someone crying. 

He reached the spot and his heart broke at the sight that met him. Aramis was sitting on the ground, head buried in his arms and his body shaking with sobs. Porthos carefully made his way over and sat down next to his brother. 

‘Hey, ‘Mis. It’s okay, everything’s okay.’

Porthos wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around his little brother, but knew better than to do that. If he touched Aramis now, the boy would probably freak out. So he had to depend on the soothing ability of his voice. 

‘Aramis, look at me. It’s okay, just calm down.’

If possible, Aramis cried even harder. He was mumbling something unintelligible, although Porthos had a pretty good idea. Even though he didn’t think it was working, Porthos kept talking soothingly to Aramis. But when Aramis started having trouble breathing, Porthos gave up and just hugged his brother close. 

As expected, Aramis freaked out. He started fighting against Porthos’ hold, shouting in Spanish and hitting Porthos’ chest with his fists. Porthos held on though, not willing to let go. 

‘Sssh, it’s alright, Aramis. I’m not going to let you go, little brother. I’m here, just calm down.’

Finally, after some very long minutes, Aramis stopped fighting and opened his eyes. He looked up at Porthos with such sadness and fear that Porthos heart broke again. 

‘I saw him die, Porthos. And I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t do anything!’

‘I know, Aramis, I know.’

Aramis broke free and stood up, his eyes still leaking tears. 

‘No, you don’t! You don’t know anything and you don’t understand anything! You have no idea how it is to be left alone in the world! You have no idea what you’re talking about! So, just shut up and LEAVE ME ALONE!’

‘NO!’ 

Porthos jumped up, his eyes blazing with anger. He pushed himself into Aramis’ personal space, their faces inches apart. 

‘How dare you say that?! I may never have witnessed a massacre but I know how it is to lose someone! I lost my mom, the only person I had in this world! So don’t give me that bullshit! You’re my brother and I’m not leaving you! I would never leave you!’

Anyone else would have been really scared of Porthos, had they been in Aramis shoes. But Aramis had never been scared of his brother. For he saw through the anger, he saw the concern and love. And it broke something in him. Some kind of barrier fell away and he started sobbing. 

‘I’m sorry, Porthos, I didn’t mean that. I just miss my papá.’

Porthos’ anger immediately disappeared and he pulled Aramis into another hug. 

‘I know, little brother. I don’t blame you, it’s not your fault.’

‘I couldn’t save him, Porthos, I couldn’t save any of them. Why couldn’t I save him?’

‘Because he wasn’t the one that needed saving that day. You were. He wanted you to live, more than anything in the world. And now, you can save other people. You can be a super-hero, like your papá.’

Aramis smiled sadly at him. 

‘Thanks, Porthos. Promise you’ll never leave me?’

‘I promise, ‘Mis. Otherwise, who would save you from your stupid pranks when they backfire?’


	16. Porthos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ages: Athos is 18, Porthos is 16, Aramis is 14 and d'Artagnan is 8.

Porthos sighed in relief when the whistle sounded, indicating that practice was over. He pulled his helmet off and jogged to the side. He was tired and his side was hurting from when someone collided with him at full speed. At least Athos had offered to give him a ride home. 

He took a quick shower in the locker room and got dressed as fast as possible. For some reason, his teammates kept glaring at him. He didn’t like it and he really didn’t want to stick around to find the reason. Porthos swung his bag over his shoulder and walked outside. When he reached the parking lot, he didn’t see Athos anywhere, although he did see his brother’s car. Porthos shrugged and decided to wait. Athos was probably still talking to his teacher or something. 

Suddenly, he was shoved hard against a car. A lacrosse stick was held against his chest to keep him against the car. When he recognized the culprit, Porthos rolled his eyes. It had to be Max Brooke, of all people it had to be him. 

‘Get lost, Brooke, I don’t have time to deal with your shit.’

Max pushed the stick harder against Porthos’ chest and smirked. 

‘Now, now, Porthos, be nice. I just want to have a conversation. Surely, even someone like you can understand that.’

Porthos growled and grabbed the lacrosse stick as well, shoving hard and causing the other boy to stumble. Before Porthos could make another move however, Max’ friends grabbed him and held him against the car again. Max caught his balance and made his way over to Porthos. 

‘Now that I have your attention, let me tell you something. You don’t belong in this team and you don’t belong in this school. Tomorrow, you’re going to tell the coach you’re quitting lacrosse. Understood?’

‘Why the hell would I do that?’

‘Because you don’t belong here.’

Porthos’ eyes narrowed and he glared at Max. 

‘What makes you think that?’

Max smirked. 

‘Just look at your background. You’re coloured, you were born in the gutter and your mom was a whore. Why you were even allowed here is beyond me.’

‘Don’t you dare talk about my mom!’

Max cocked his head to the side and smiled. 

‘Hit a nerve there, did I? It’s true though, I know it is. Your mom was a little bitch who was so desperate to forget about you that she had sex with everyone. And then she died. Good riddance, I’d say.’

Porthos roared and he broke free of the hold on him, shoving the offenders to the side. Before anyone could stop him, he pounced on Max. Both of them fell to the ground and Porthos quickly started punching him. He knew he had lost control, since he only saw red but he didn’t care. Hands pulled him off and hit him, which angered him even more. He was going to kill them all, especially Max Brooke. 

******

Athos whistled as he walked to his car. Today was a good day. He had gotten his test back in Statistics AP and he had gotten a B+ for it. And tonight, he and his brothers had fencing class. He hoped Porthos had had a good lacrosse practice. Personally, Athos didn’t like lacrosse. He went to Porthos’ games, of course, but he would never play lacrosse himself. No, he much preferred to be on the track team. 

Sounds of fighting pulled him out of his thoughts and he quickly made his way over. His eyes widened in anger when he saw the lacrosse team beating Porthos up, or rather trying to. Clenching his fists and squaring his shoulders, Athos jumped into the fight, shoving the other boys away and trying to pull Porthos off of a barely recognizable person. Porthos growled and tried to get back to his victim. 

‘Porthos!’ Athos shouted. 

Porthos froze and looked at his brother. Then looked down at his bloodied fists and Max Brooke on the ground. He looked back up at Athos, guilt clear in his eyes. Athos gently steered him towards the car and got him in the passenger seat. After that, he walked back to the others and fixed them with an icy glare. 

‘If any of you punks even think about complaining to someone about what happened here, you won’t live to regret it. Understood?’

The threat in Athos’ tone and eyes was crystal clear and none of the boys were quite foolish enough to defy the older teenager. They all nodded and made their hasty retreat, after picking Max up from the ground. Athos watched them leave before returning to his car, where Porthos was clenching and unclenching his hands. Although Athos wanted nothing more than comfort his brother, he knew that now was not the time. 

When they got home, no one else was there. There was a note lying on the table, telling them Aramis and d’Artagnan had gone to the park to play with Aramis’ new soccer ball and that they would be home around 5 pm. Their dad was probably still at work, he usually got home around 6. 

Athos and Porthos sat down on the couch, both lost in their own thoughts. Suddenly, Athos turned towards his brother. 

‘Wanna tell me what happened back there? What made you lose control like that?’

Porthos’ fists clenched and he shook with anger. 

‘Max Brooke insulted my mom. He had no right to talk about her like that!’

‘What exactly did he say?’

‘He called her a whore. No one calls my mother names, no one!’

Athos held his hands up in a placating manner. 

‘I get that. But you shouldn’t have beaten him up so bad. I barely recognized him. You should have kept your anger under control.’

Although Athos hadn’t meant anything wrong, his words were ill-received by Porthos. Before he could react, Porthos had punched him hard and square in the face. His head snapped back and he felt blood streaming from his nose. 

Both teenagers stared at each other in shock before Porthos fled to his room and locked the door. He slid down to the ground and tried not to look at the blood on his hands. Athos’ blood. Max’s words taunted him, making him remember things he tried to suppress. 

******

Porthos blinked tiredly when he heard the door creaking. A few moments later, he felt the mattress dip slightly and a soft hand carding through his hair. He opened his eyes and saw his mother smiling softly at him, although she had tears in her eyes. 

‘Mom? Why are you crying?’

His mother held back a sob and hugged him. 

‘Nothing, baby, it’s nothing. I’m just a little tired.’

Porthos nodded sleepily and leaned against her. His mother kept carding her hand through his hair, gently playing with his curls. Porthos smiled up at his mother but the smile disappeared when he noticed an angry bruise on her cheek. 

‘Who did that?’ 

His mother fingered the bruise and sighed. 

‘Don’t you worry about it. Just promise me, Porthos, that you will always treat women with respect and that you will never hit them. Can you promise me that, baby?’

‘I promise, mom.’

She smiled warmly at him. 

‘Good boy. You will be a great man with a good life. I just know it.’

Porthos simply nodded again and started to doze off, soothed by his mother’s voice and presence. When she though he was asleep, his mother gently laid Porthos back on the mattress, tucking him in with the blanket. After removing her uncomfortable high heels and changing her skimpy outfit for an old pair of sweatpants and jumper, she laid down next to her three-year old son and stroked his face. 

‘I promise you, baby, no one will ever hurt you. I will give you the best life I can, ‘cause that’s what you deserve. I will make sure you have a better life than me.’

^^^

Porthos’ body shook with sobs as his mother’s body was taken away. Why did she have to die? She was the best mother on the whole earth and now she was gone. It wasn’t fair! He needed his mother, he couldn’t live without her. 

When the social services tried to get him into the car, he struggled and screamed, trying with all his power to run away. He had heard stories about foster care and knew that he did not want to go there. Sadly, that’s exactly where the five-year old ended up. 

^^^

Porthos scowled as he waited outside of his case-worker’s office. He knew she was exasperated and wanted to get rid of him as soon as possible. Well, the feeling was mutual. So far, almost all of the foster families she had sent him too, ended up abusing him. And on the odd occasion that they didn’t, they would send him back because of his anger management issues. 

Porthos kicked his legs back and forth. He was seven years old now and knew he was not the boy he used to be. All the abuse had made sure of that. His mother’s sweet boy was gone, because there was no place for that boy in the real world. Porthos didn’t trust anyone. Every time he did, he ended up getting hurt. Fine, if that was the case, then he would be harsh too. Whenever he stayed in a foster home, he made sure all the kids avoided him. 

‘Hi there. You must be Porthos.’

Porthos looked up to see a woman standing in front of him. She had short blond hair and green eyes that shone with kindness. Her hand was stretched out to him. 

‘I’m Mrs. Hunter. I just spoke with your case-worker and have read your file.’

‘So? Let me guess, you want to know how foster care has been for me. Well, I can tell you, it sucks. I hate it and I hate my case-worker and as soon as I’m old enough, you will never see me again. Happy now? Or where you hoping for some bullshit about how great it is and how grateful I am for it? Tough luck, lady.’

To his surprise, Mrs. Hunter merely smiled in sympathy. 

‘I know how much foster care sucks. That’s why I’m here. I just arranged for you to be placed in the orphanage I run. You will stay there until we’ve found a family that’s just right for you, or until you’re old enough to leave. So, are you ready to go?’

*****

Porthos vibrated with anger. Yes, his mother had been a prostitute, but not because she wanted to. She simply hadn’t seen another way to get the money she and her son needed. His mother did what she had to do, just so her son wouldn’t starve. When she discovered Porthos’ love for football, she saved up as much as she could to buy him a ball for his 5th birthday. 

Then, a few days after, she died. He never did find out the reason, but he supposed she was sick. Because he had no other family, he ended up in foster care. The abuse he experienced there for two years made him rude, aggressive and prone to violence. What had hurt the worst, though, was that nobody wanted him. They were scared of him and refused to see through his angry mask. They refused to see the little boy who just wanted a loving family. 

A movement next to him pulled Porthos out of his dark memories. Athos had apparently entered through the bathroom and was now sitting next to him, looking worried. 

‘I’m sorry, Porthos. What I said earlier was wrong. You were right to hit that punk. That idiot doesn’t know what he’s talking about.’

‘And you do?’ Porthos scoffed. 

He was met with a furious glare but he stared back just as angry. 

‘In case you’ve forgotten,’ Athos said in an icy tone. ‘I lost my mother when I was seven years old. And then my father abused and neglected me for two years. So yeah, I know what I’m talking about. I can relate to your past, Porthos, and to your anger. My past may not have been as tough as yours, but don’t make the mistake of dismissing me.’

Porthos’ whole demeanour changed at those words. He was hit with the sudden need for someone to comfort him, to tell him that it was okay. He wanted to cry about the loss of his loving mother, the person who had sacrificed so much for him. He stared at the ground and bit on his lip, already feeling tears burning his eyes. 

Suddenly, strong arms pulled him close. 

‘Let it out, Porthos. You need to let it out.’

And he did just that. He cried in Athos’ arms, who rubbed his back and held up a steady stream of comforting words. He cried as he thought of his mother, of her sacrifices, of her death, of the abuse and of the abandonment. When he had calmed down a little, Athos made him look up and held his gaze. 

‘Listen to me, Porthos. All those things you and your mother went through, you didn’t deserve it. None of it. Both of you deserved happiness and you got it, brother, you got it. So don’t let an idiot like Max Brooke get to you, ‘cause you are way better than him. You went through some rough times, but you got the family you always wanted when you met Aramis. And that loving family, that is what you deserve and that’s where you belong. Got it?’

Porthos gave him a small smile. 

‘Got it.’

They both hugged each other fiercely and neither of them noticed the pushing against the door. Nor did they notice the bathroom door opening, revealing Aramis and d’Artagnan. What they did notice, was Aramis exclaiming indignantly: 

‘Hey! I want to be hugged too!’

Athos and Porthos had just enough time to brace themselves, before Aramis and d’Artagnan attacked them at full force. As the four them had a big group hug, Porthos sighed happily. Athos was right, he did get the loving family he always wanted. And he would never, ever, let them go.


	17. d'Artagnan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ages: Athos is 18, Porthos is 16, Aramis is 14 and d'Artagnan is 8.   
> I was informed that it would be wise to keep tissues at hand while reading this.

D’Artagnan hummed happily as he grabbed his bag. He couldn’t wait to go home and start on his project. Maybe if he asked nicely enough, dad would let him borrow his camera. Then he could interview his family and have it on tape! Buzzing with excitement, he almost didn’t hear the teacher calling him. 

He turned around and walked back to her desk. He still wasn’t too sure about the teacher. She was a substitute, since their actual teacher was on maternity leave. Now, the substitute seemed nice enough, but she could act a bit weird sometimes. D’Artagnan shrugged. That didn’t matter now. 

‘Yes, Mrs. Lee?’

She walked from behind her desk and crouched in front of him, placing a hand on his shoulder and smiling sympathetically at him. 

‘I’m very sorry to tell you this, sweetheart, but I’m afraid you cannot do the project.’

‘Why not?!’

‘Well, it’s a project about family.’

D’Artagnan frowned. 

‘I know. I have a family and they’re gonna help me get a good grade.’

Mrs. Lee sighed. 

‘Oh, honey, I know you are excited. But they are not your actual family, are they? They adopted you.’

‘Yeah, but that doesn’t matter, right? We’re still a family.’

‘I understand, but it isn’t a real family. So, I’m afraid you cannot do the project.’

‘That’s not fair! I wanna do the project.’

Mrs. Lee sighed and seemed to think deeply for a moment. Then she smiled at him, but something in her eyes seemed off. 

‘Maybe there’s a way you can still do the project. You remember your biological parents, don’t you?’

‘Uh-huh. I still miss them, but not as much as I used to.’

‘That’s great. Now, how about you do the project about your biological parents? And maybe you could tell something about foster care as well.’

‘B-but I don’t want to tell about that.’

‘It’s either that or no project for you.’

D’Artagnan swallowed. He knew he needed that project, ‘cause his dad had said that his grades needed to go up. 

‘Okay, I’ll tell about it.’

‘Good boy. Now off you go.’

When d’Artagnan got outside, all three of his brothers were waiting for him. They frowned when his greeting lacked enthusiasm, and got worried when he stayed silent during the entire car ride. When they got home, d’Artagnan immediately disappeared, leaving his brothers to worry about him. 

******

Aramis was worried. Scratch that, he was freaking out. This whole week had been hectic and stressful, with a minimum amount of sleep. Almost every night, they would be awoken by a screaming d’Artagnan, who seemed to suffer from night terrors. Nobody, not even Athos, had been able to find out what had triggered them or what they were about. 

Then there was the fact that d’Artagnan had spent every minute of his free time at his desk, working on some sort of project for school. Now, that might not seem like such a problem, but every time someone asked him about it, he would go quiet and hide his work. And at some point, d’Artagnan started snapping at them when they kept up the questioning. 

And if all of that wasn’t enough, there was the fact that the eight-year old had burst into tears when they told him to get ready for school. He refused to let anyone comfort him or tell them what the problem was. After the boy had finally calmed down, he simply said goodbye to their dad and got into Athos’ car. 

Since his school had closed because of a sudden flu outbreak, Aramis had originally planned to sleep in. Sadly, that was not to be, since Porthos’ alarm still went off at six ‘o clock. So, since he was already awake, he joined his family at breakfast and got to witness d’Artagnan’s small breakdown. Which was why he was freaking out now. 

A sudden thought struck him. Since he was home alone, he could go into Athos’ and d’Artagnan’s bedroom to look for clues on d’Artagnan’s behaviour. The moment he stepped into his brothers’ bedroom, he wondered about the same thing Porthos and he did, every time they went to that room. How in the world did Athos and d’Artagnan keep this room so tidy? 

The beds were made (although Aramis was convinced Athos did that), d’Artagnan’s toys were kept in a big box in the corner, the books on the shelf were catalogued on language and in alphabetical order, both desks were organized and Aramis firmly believed that the clothes in the closet were catalogued on colour. 

After searching for about an hour and finding nothing, Aramis was about to give up when he noticed something sticking out from under d’Artagnan’s pillow. He made his way over to the bed and lifted the pillow, to reveal a thick folder. Aramis hesitated for a second, not wanting to snoop in his brother’s private stuff. But then he thought of d’Artagnan’s breakdown and made up his mind. 

When he opened the folder, his eyes went wide. 

‘Dios mío!’ He whispered.

******

D’Artagnan fidgeted nervously in his chair. His classmate, Callum, was telling about his family and when he was done, it would be d’Artagnan’s turn. He had spent the whole week working on his project. Sadly, he couldn’t remember much of his papa and maman, so he had done something bad. He had gone into his dad’s office and stolen the folder that had his name on it, in the hopes of finding out more about his parents.

What he had seen in that folder, he did not like at all. It made him remember things that he didn’t want to think about ever again. But the worst thing, in d’Artagnan’s eyes, was that he could not complete the project. He still hadn’t found out more about his papa and maman. 

Sudden applause pulled d’Artagnan from his musings. 

‘Thank you, Callum,’ Mrs. Lee said. ‘Now, d’Artagnan, it’s your turn. Please come stand in front of the class.’

D’Artagnan made his way over, his face pale. He put his stuff in front of him, which wasn’t much. He knew he was going to fail this project. The presentation had to be about 20 minutes long, while d’Artagnan would not be able to fill even 10. While he was trying to build up the courage to start his presentation, his classmates started to whisper amongst themselves. 

‘Where are your pictures?’ One person asked. 

‘Yeah, you have to show pictures! Mrs. Lee said that.’

‘I-I don’t have pictures,’ d’Artagnan answered. 

‘Children, I’m sure there’s a reason for it,’ Mrs. Lee said. ‘If you could start your presentation now, d’Artagnan.’

D’Artagnan took a deep breath, feeling more panicked by the second. 

‘I-I’m going t-to tell you about my parents. My papa’s name is Alexandre and my maman’s name i-is Marie.’

‘You don’t have a mother!’ Callum shouted. 

‘Stupid!’ someone else said. ‘His mother died. He’s an orphan, remember?’

‘But what about his dad? His dad’s name isn’t Alexandre!’

‘That’s because his dad died too. He’s adopted.’

‘Hey, are you going to tell how your parents died?’

D’Artagnan was completely lost. He didn’t see his class anymore, he was being pulled into his memories. While on the outside he seemed frozen, on the inside he was struggling against the memories, screaming for his family to come help him. 

*****

‘Papa, I want maman. We go to maman?’

‘Yeah, buddy, we’re going to maman.’

D’Artagnan didn’t understand why his papa was so sad. They were going to maman, so everything was good, right? Maman was nice and sweet and she always smelt like flowers. She always played with him, hugged him and told him stories. Sometimes, she would even make cookies with him. 

When he finally saw his maman, d’Artagnan was confused. She was lying in a bed and she looked sick. Maybe that was why papa was sad. When maman opened her eyes, d’Artagnan was shocked to see tears in them. 

‘Alexandre, s’il te plaît me donner notre fils. J’ai envie de dire au revoir.’ (Alexandre, please give me our son. I want to say goodbye)

As soon as d’Artagnan was on the bed, he crawled into maman’s arms. She sounded like she was in pain and he didn’t want her to be in pain. 

‘Maman, pourquoi voulais tu dire au revoir? Je ne veux pas te quitter.’ (Mommy, why do you want to say goodbye. I don't want you to leave)

His maman sighed and softly stroke his face. 

‘Ça ne fait rien, mon garçon doux. Tu peux chanter cette chanson je t’ai appris?’ (It doesn't matter, my sweet boy. Can you sing that song I taught you?)

‘Oui, maman. Frère Jacques, frère Jacques. Dormez-vous? Dormez-vous? Sonnez les matines! Sonnez les matines! Ding, dang, dong. Ding, dang, dong.’ (Yes, mommy)

Maman smiled but then she winced. Tears were in her eyes and suddenly, she hugged d’Artagnan tightly. 

‘Je t’aime, mon petit mousquetaire. Promets-moi, tu seras un bon garçon.’ (I love you, my little musketeer. Promise me, that you will be a good boy) 

D’Artagnan nodded, feeling very frightened. 

‘Je promets, maman, je promets.’ (I promise, mommy, I promise)

^^^

‘Goodnight, little musketeer. Don’t forget to get into fights with the Red Guards.’

D’Artagnan giggled as his papa kissed him on the forehead. 

‘Goodnight, papa.’

Soon after the lights were turned off, d’Artagnan fell asleep. His dreams were interrupted when he heard a loud banging on the front door. Curious as to who was making such a noise, d’Artagnan got out of bed and into the hallway. He was just in time to see his papa open the door. 

D’Artagnan frowned when he heard his papa and an unknown voice shout at each other. Carefully, he crept closer towards the front door. But the moment he reached the end of the hallway, a loud bang sounded. D’Artagnan screamed when his papa fell to the ground, blood already pooling around him. He rushed forward, but froze when the man standing outside, whom the unknown voice belonged to, smiled sadistically at him. 

‘When you’re older kid, you come looking for me. Hopefully, you’ll won’t end up like your daddy.’

With that, the man left. D’Artagnan quickly ran to his papa, biting on his lip when he felt himself stepping in the pool of blood. 

‘Papa, wake up! Please wake up!’

When his papa didn’t react, d’Artagnan started to push him. But whatever he did, it didn’t work. His papa would not wake up. Tears streamed down d’Artagnan’s face and he buried his head in papa’s chest. 

‘Ne me laisse pas seul, papa. S’il vous plaît, reviens. Je ne veux pas être seul.’ (Don't leave me alone, daddy. Please, wake up. I don't want to be alone)

^^^

D’Artagnan curled into himself, trying as hard as he could not to feel the pain. It didn’t help though, since he was still being hit and kicked. Breathing became impossible and his tears seemed to have dried up. He couldn’t scream, couldn’t cry. 

‘You are worthless! You can’t do anything right!’

‘It would be better for the world if you didn’t exist!’

D’Artagnan didn’t understand. What had he done wrong? What had he done to deserve being hit? Would it really be better if he didn’t exist? Maybe, a small voice in his head said, maybe they’re right. Maybe papa and maman would still be alive if you didn’t exist. 

^^^

‘He won’t speak at all and if you talk to him, he doesn’t even acknowledge you. He just stares into the distance and most of the time, it’s like he’s not even here!’

D’Artagnan wrapped his arms around his legs and stared at the wall. He knew the people in the orphanage didn’t like him. Well, he didn’t like them either. He just wanted to be left alone, just be in his own little world. D’Artagnan liked his own world better. It was warm and quiet, with no people. No one could hurt him there, because he was the only person. 

Over time, he had gotten better and better at shutting everything out. He knew that nobody wanted him and that he was worthless. Besides, if he shut everything out, there would be no one to bother him. Yes, he much preferred his own world. He was never, ever, coming out of it. 

******

Aramis stormed into the school, almost colliding with a teacher he didn’t know. Before the man could stop him, Aramis ran towards the classroom of the 2th grade. He really hoped he wasn’t too late. After what he had seen in that folder, he knew exactly what had caused d’Artagnan’s odd behaviour and night terrors. But what he didn’t understand was why his brother needed that file for a school project. 

The scene that met him in the classroom, made Aramis really angry and worried. D’Artagnan was curled up on the ground, tears streaming down his face and not making sound, while his teacher was shaking him and telling him to stop acting like that. The other children in the classroom were talking loudly about what was going on with d’Artagnan. 

Aramis rushed forward and knelt down in front of d’Artagnan, shoving the teacher aside. 

‘What happened? What did you do?’

The teacher glared at him. 

‘I’m sorry, young man, but what are you doing in my classroom? You do not belong here.’

Aramis scowled. 

‘I asked you a question first. What did you do? What did you say that caused my little brother to act like this?’

‘He is simply overreacting. Or maybe he’s trying to avoid presenting his project. I do not see what the problem is. The only thing he has to do is tell about his biological parents and foster care.’

‘He has to do WHAT?!’ Aramis roared, causing the other children to look at him and the teacher. ‘You cannot expect him to do that! Have you even read his file?!’

‘I will not tolerate you talking to me like that.’

‘And I will not tolerate my brother suffering just because you are a stupid bitch.’

The whole class, including the teacher, gasped in disbelief. Before anyone could stop him, Aramis, after grabbing d’Artagnan’s stuff and backpack, lifted his little brother in his arms and left the room. 

‘Come on, d’Art, I need to get you home. Everything is gonna be okay, I promise.’

*****

When they got home, Aramis sat down in the floor with d’Artagnan in his lap. He had to get his little brother out of this state. For a moment, he considered calling Athos, but he knew that was not going to work. D’Artagnan needed help, now. 

‘Pup, listen to me. You are safe, I promise you. Nobody will hurt you. I’m here and I’m gonna help you. But you have to open your eyes.’

When d’Artagnan didn’t react, Aramis thought about different methods. He remembered four years ago, when d’Artagnan had just joined their family, the pup would have these kind of episodes and needed guidance to get out of them. Usually, that task fell to Athos, since speaking French was a sure way of getting a reaction out of d’Artagnan. 

Now, Aramis definitely wasn’t fluent in French like Athos and d’Artagnan. He had, however, picked up a little of the language over the years. And he knew the words Athos used when he calmed d’Artagnan down. 

‘Here goes nothing,’ he sighed. ‘Réveil, d’Artagnan, c’est très bien. Tu es en sécurité.’ (Wake up, d'Artagnan, it's alright. You're safe)

Aramis thanked the lord when a shock went through d’Artagnan and his little brother looked up at him. 

‘Aramis?’ he whispered. 

There was so much fear and sadness in that one word, that Aramis wanted to go back to the elementary school and beat that stupid teacher into oblivion. But instead of doing that, he hugged d’Artagnan. 

‘It’s okay, pup, you’re home with me. Everything’s okay.’

‘I saw him die, ‘Mis. My papa died and I couldn’t do anything. Why did he have to die?’

‘I don’t know, pup. I wish I did, but I don’t.’

‘Maybe he wouldn’t have died if I didn’t exist.’

Aramis’ eyes widened in shock. He grabbed d’Artagnan’s face and forced the kid to look at him. 

‘That’s not true, d’Art. Don’t you ever think that! None of the things that happened are your fault!’

D’Artagnan got out of Aramis’ lap and glared at him. 

‘How would you know? You don’t even know what it feels like.’

Aramis smiled sadly, tears glistening in his eyes. 

‘I do. I saw my papá die too, remember? And I know that it’s the worst feeling in the entire world. Because when he died, I was completely alone. Just like you were. I might not have any experience with abusive foster homes, but I know what it feels like, because of Porthos and Athos. All of us know what losing a mother feels like.’

Aramis gently pulled d’Artagnan back in his embrace. 

‘I can relate, pup, I really can. And I can tell you with complete honesty, none of us deserved the horrible things that happened in our past. Just as none of us are to blame for any of it. We didn’t ask to lose our parents or be abused. All we ever wanted is a happy and loving family. ‘Cause that is what we deserve. All of us.’

A sob escaped d’Artagnan, causing Aramis to pull him closer. 

‘You can cry, little brother, it’s okay to cry.’

D’Artagnan did cry, burying his face in Aramis’ shoulder. Sobs wrecked his body, leaving him trembling in Aramis’ arms. When he finally calmed down, he looked at Aramis with a worried expression. 

‘What’s wrong, pup?’

‘My project. I failed it, but I don’t want to do it.’

Aramis thought deeply and then a smile lit up his face. 

‘I think I might have an idea.’

******

Treville angrily hung up his coat and walked to the living room, where Aramis was sitting on the couch with Athos and Porthos, watching TV. 

‘Aramis Treville. You and I need to talk.’

He was met with big innocent eyes. Treville looked back sternly and crossed his arms. 

‘Don’t give me that look. Could you explain to me why I got a phone call from d’Artagnan’s teacher, informing me that you had insulted her and taken your brother home in the middle of his presentation?’

‘I had to, dad! Did she even tell you what she had him do his project about?’

Treville frowned and sat down next to Aramis. 

‘She didn’t. What was the project about?’

‘This,’ Aramis said while handing him a thick folder. ‘The pup got that from your office, in the hopes of finding out more about his parents and foster care. ‘Cause that’s what that stupid teacher wanted him to do his project about. And then his classmates asked him to tell how his parents died!’

Treville winced when he recognized the folder. It was d’Artagnan’s file, with details about his father’s murder and the abuse the poor boy had suffered in his foster homes. 

‘I assume that’s what his night terrors were about?’

Aramis nodded. 

‘He was nearly catatonic when I got to the classroom, dad. Please don’t be mad, I just wanted to help d’Art.’

Treville smiled proudly at him. 

‘I’ll let it slide because you were helping your brother. But remember, Aramis, that’s the only reason you will ever be allowed to do what you did today. Understood?’

‘Understood, dad.’

Suddenly, d’Artagnan came running downstairs with a box in his hands. He excitedly motioned for Porthos to turn off the TV, which he did. 

‘What’s going on, d’Art?’ Athos asked. 

‘I wanna present my new project to you. Aramis gave me the idea. Please listen?’

‘Of course we will, buddy,’ Treville chuckled. ‘Go ahead.’

D’Artagnan smiled and pulled photos from the box, as well as some other stuff. When he had everything ready, he stood in front of the coffee table, holding up a picture of their family. 

‘My name is d’Artagnan Treville and today, I’m going to tell you about my family. I have a dad, whose name is Jean Treville, and three awesome older brothers, Athos, Porthos and Aramis. You can see them on this picture.’


	18. University letters

Athos tapped the steering wheel impatiently. He was on his way home after school and really anxious. Today was the day he was going to hear if he was admitted to the colleges he had applied for. So, he was not very patient with traffic today. He just wanted to get home as quickly as possible. 

When he finally arrived at home, he arrived at the same time as his dad. They locked their cars and walked inside, Athos filled with trepidation. Treville laughed. 

‘Relax, son, I’m sure it’s good news. You worked as hard as you could, I’m sure you got in.’

Athos groaned. 

‘Don’t say that, dad. You’re jinxing it.’

Treville simply chuckled and hung his jacket away, forcing Athos to do the same. The teenager shot towards the living room, where they generally placed all the mail that came in after one of them had retrieved it from mailbox. He frowned when he didn’t see anything. 

‘Where’s the mail? Someone must have retrieved it.’

‘Check the mailbox. Maybe they forgot.’

Athos sprinted to the mailbox and frowned again when he found it empty. Walking back inside, he looked around, trying to find the mail. 

‘It’s supposed to be here. Where is it?’

Treville sighed. 

‘I don’t know. Maybe it hasn’t arrived yet?’

‘That’s not possible. It has to be here!’

Treville looked sternly at Athos and he toned down his voice. 

‘You can go look for it, I’m going to cook dinner. Can you send d’Artagnan down? It’s his turn to set the table.’

Athos nodded and went downstairs, still grumbling about the missing mail. Upstairs, he heard d’Artagnan making shooting sounds, but the moment he entered the room, d’Artagnan was quiet. Athos sighed. For the last few weeks, d’Artagnan had been in some sort of tantrum and refused to interact with Athos. Nobody knew why and nobody had been able to get it out of the boy. 

‘Dad wants you downstairs. It’s your turn to set the table.’

D’Artagnan didn’t reply, just went downstairs. As he passed Athos, he stubbornly looked the other way. Athos scowled and dumped his bag, before entering Porthos’ and Aramis’ room through the bathroom. 

Their room was messy, as it was always. Aramis was lying on his bed, reading a comic, while Porthos was at the desk, doing his homework. Neither of them noticed Athos. Apparently, Porthos was having trouble with his homework, because he groaned and threw over his shoulder:

‘Hey, ‘Mis, can you help me out? Spanish is killing me.’

Aramis smirked and made to get up, but then he noticed Athos. 

‘Athos, shouldn’t you be downstairs? I thought you had important mail coming today.’

‘It hasn’t arrived yet.’

Porthos turned around in surprise. 

‘What do you mean? It’s downstairs, on the coffee table. I retrieved it from the mailbox myself when I got home.’

Athos frowned, something he seemed to be doing a lot today. 

‘I just got home and it wasn’t there. You’re sure you put it on the table?’

‘Positive. One from Harvard College and one from Pennsylvania State.’

Athos thought deeply and then glared at Aramis, who backed up slightly. 

‘Aramis, if this is one of your pranks, it’s not funny. Give me those letters!’

‘What?!’ Aramis squawked indignantly. ‘I didn’t take them!’

‘Then where the heck are they?!’

Porthos slowly moved to stand between his brothers, holding his hands up in a placating manner. 

‘Athos, I’m sure Aramis didn’t take them. He knows how important those letters are. Besides, I’ve been with him the whole time, he can’t have taken them without me knowing.’

‘Well, letters don’t just vanish into thin air.’

‘Maybe the pup took those letters.’ Aramis said thoughtfully. 

‘Why would he do that?’

‘Think about it,’ Porthos said. ‘He has been mad at you for the last few weeks, for reasons none of us know. Perhaps he took those letters just to annoy you?’

Athos stormed downstairs, Porthos and Aramis hot on his heels. The three of them burst into the kitchen, where d’Artagnan was humming a song while setting the table. Treville was busy cooking dinner, but turned around to see what was going on. Athos immediately cornered his youngest brother. 

‘Give those letters back!’

‘I don’t have any stupid letters!’

‘Liar! You’re the only one who could have taken them, so give them back!’

‘No!’

Athos had been on edge for some time now, and he snapped at d’Artagnan’s response. Before anyone could stop him, Athos shoved the younger boy against the counter. D’Artagnan hit the counter hard, with the back of his head and cried out in pain. Treville was the first to shake off his shock and immediately pulled Athos back. 

‘What the heck do you think you’re doing?! Apologize to your brother, right now!’

‘If he gives me those letters back!’

D’Artagnan, who was being checked over by Aramis, pushed the 14-year old away and glared at his oldest brother. Tears were pooling in his eyes but he didn’t let them fall. 

‘You can have those stupid letters. I hope you leave and never come back! I hate you!’

He grabbed the letters from the drawer had hidden them in and threw them at Athos, before pushing past everyone and storming out the backdoor. 

*****

Porthos tried to keep the panic at bay as he searched for his youngest brother. All of them had been outside for at least an hour now, looking for d’Artagnan. They had split up, although he and Aramis had to stick together. So far, they had checked the playground and their street, but no sign of the pup. 

Aramis scowled as he looked around. How could Athos be so stupid? Sure, hiding those letters wasn’t d’Artagnan’s nicest action, but to shove him against the counter? It was an unwritten rule between the brothers, nobody hurts the pup. You just didn’t. It was like, well like kicking a Labrador puppy. Now, don’t get Aramis wrong, he understood where Athos was coming from. This whole schoolyear had been rather stressful, and those college applications only caused more stress. So, it was understandable that Athos was on edge. But it didn’t justify hurting their youngest, even if he did hide the letters. 

Treville sighed as he drove towards the houses of d’Artagnan’s friends. He really should have seen this coming. Athos had been on nervous for weeks and d’Artagnan had been upset for the same amount of time. Even though his youngest had refused to talk to him, Treville had an inkling of what the problem could be. D’Artagnan shared a special bond with Athos and the thought of his oldest brother leaving was probably more than what the eight-year old could take. If only he had taken the time to talk to his son about it. 

Athos clenched the steering wheel as he drove. He kept kicking himself for shoving d’Artagnan. He really shouldn’t have done that. Although, in his defence, d’Artagnan hid his letters, even though he knew how important those were to Athos. Bullshit, it still didn’t justify hurting d’Art. Suddenly, he realised it was raining and mentally banged his head against the steering wheel. He had to find his brother and soon, otherwise the kid would get sick. 

He hit the brakes when he reached the elementary school. On the steps to the entry, sat a small figure. Athos parked his car and threw open the door, sprinting towards the steps. 

‘d’Artagnan,’ he breathed. 

Said boy jumped up when he noticed Athos and tried to run away. Athos reacted fast enough and managed to grab his youngest brother around the waist. D’Artagnan struggled and trashed, trying to break free. 

‘Let me go! Don’t touch me!’

Athos pulled d’Artagnan back and sat down on the steps, holding his brother against him as the boy continued to struggle. 

‘Leave me alone! I hate you!’

The words cut like a knife, even though Athos knew they were said in anger. 

‘Stop it, d’Artagnan! I’m not going to hurt you. Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shoved you.’

D’Artagnan’s struggling ceased and he looked up at Athos. There were tear tracks already on his face and still more tears streamed from his eyes. Athos sighed. 

‘d’Art, I’m sorry. I was on edge and you hiding those letters was more than I could take at the moment. You know how important they are to me, don’t you?’

D’Artagnan nodded timidly. Athos frowned. 

‘Then why did you hide them? Because if it was a prank, it wasn’t funny.’

D’Artagnan immediately broke himself free, glaring at Athos. 

‘You think I hid them because I wanted to be funny? I’m not stupid! You just don’t understand! You’re the worst brother ever!’

‘Then explain it to me!’ Athos roared, standing up as well. 

D’Artagnan recoiled, clearly frightened by the outburst. He had even brought up his arms to defend himself. When Athos realised this, he sat down again. 

‘I’m sorry, d’Artagnan. Please explain to me why you felt it necessary to hide those letters.’

D’Artagnan let his arms fall limply by his side and stared at the ground. 

‘I don’t want you to leave,’ he mumbled. ‘If you go to college, you’ll leave me and I don’t want that. I’ll have nobody to read poems to me before I go to bed.’

He suddenly flung himself at Athos. 

‘Please don’t go away! I don’t want to lose you.’

It was at that moment that Athos understood. D’Artagnan had hidden the letters, in the childish hope it would make Athos stay at home. Because he was scared that Athos wouldn’t come back and that he would lose another loved one. He sighed and hugged d’Artagnan. 

‘I’m not leaving you. Yes, I want to go to college and I am going. But that doesn’t mean we won’t see each other again. We can Skype, every night if you want. And I’ll come home with the holidays. After all, I can’t leave you to celebrate them with Porthos and Aramis, can I?’

D’Artagnan giggled through his tears and buried his head in Athos’ chest. 

‘Promise you won’t leave me?’

‘I promise. We’re brothers and brothers never leave each other.’

*****

The moment Athos had gotten out of the car with d’Artagnan, the front door flew open and Treville stormed outside. Treville lifted d’Artagnan in his arms and motioned for Athos to follow him. 

Inside, Porthos and Aramis were pacing the living room, looking extremely worried. They sighed in relief when they saw d’Artagnan in Treville’s arms. Athos noticed the temperature in the room had been turned up, making it very comfortable after being in the cold rain for quite some time. 

‘Athos, there are some dry clothes for you on the couch. Put them on, otherwise you’ll get sick.’

Athos did as told, while Treville helped d’Artagnan to get out of his wet clothes and put his pyjama’s on. Porthos handed a blanket to Athos and Aramis helped Treville wrap d’Artagnan in some blankets.   
After Athos and d’Artagnan had been taken care of, they all sat down in the living room. Treville sighed as he looked around. Although Aramis still seemed angry at Athos, the boys seemed calmed down. D’Artagnan was leaning against Athos, eyes closed. Good, that meant they had talked it out. 

‘So, Athos, d’Artagnan, I assume you apologized to each other?’

‘Yeah, we did.’

Aramis immediately stopped glaring at Athos and turned a puzzled look towards d’Artagnan. 

‘Pup, why did you hide those letters?’

D’Artagnan mumbled something nobody understood. Aramis frowned. 

‘What?’

‘I don’t want Athos to leave,’ d’Artagnan repeated, louder this time. ‘I thought that if I hid those letters, he wouldn’t go to college.’

Treville sighed. He had been right. Why hadn’t he realised it earlier? It would’ve avoided a lot of problems. 

‘But,’ Athos said, thus interrupting Treville’s thoughts. ‘I explained to d’Artagnan that although I am going to college, I’m not truly leaving. We’ll Skype and I’ll visit during the holidays. After all, what kind of brother would I be if I left him to celebrate them with Porthos and Aramis? The poor kid doesn’t deserve that kind of nightmare.’

While Aramis and Porthos spluttered indignantly, Treville smiled. He knew Athos would do everything in his power to keep his word. He also knew that this summer, his boys would grab every opportunity to spend time together. After all, they had been living in the same house for nine years, so this was going to be a big change. 

Suddenly, d’Artagnan walked out of the living room and came back with two letters in his hand. He gave them to Athos with a shy look. Athos stared at him in surprise, to which d’Artagnan shrugged. 

‘I need to know if I hid them for nothing, don’t I?’

Athos stared at the thick envelopes. His nervousness came back in full force. What if he hadn’t been accepted? He really wanted to go to Harvard College, it had been his dream since he was six. His hands started to shake slightly. He looked up when he felt a hand on his shoulder. 

‘Open them,’ Porthos said. ‘If anyone deserves to be accepted, it’s you. Your lowest grade is a B+, I’m sure you got in.’

Athos opened the letter from Harvard first and his eyes flew over the words. When he finished, he looked up with disbelief in his eyes. His family was silent, looking at him with curiosity. 

‘I got in,’ Athos whispered. ‘I've been accepted to study Economics at Harvard College.'

A deafening cheer sounded through the house as Athos was attacked by his brothers and father. He hugged them back happily, amazed that he had managed to get into Harvard. 

******

It was near midnight and Athos had just fallen asleep, when he felt something crawl into his bed. Smiling, he rolled onto his side and wrapped an arm around his youngest brother. 

‘You know, I’m starting to wonder why we even bothered to get you your own bed. You barely ever sleep in it.’

D’Artagnan responded by snuggling closer to his brother, fisting a small hand in Athos’ shirt. 

‘I’m gonna miss you, ‘Thos. But I’m proud of you. Promise you’ll come back?’

‘I promise, little brother.’


	19. It's summer time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was mostly based on my summer vacation to Sweden a few years ago. I did all of the activities mentioned in this chapter and I thought the boys would enjoy them too.

‘Athos? Athos, wake up! It’s time to wake up, now.’

Athos groaned as an annoying voice kept bothering him. He turned away, hoping it would rid him of the voice. Unfortunately, the voice followed him, now accompanied by something shaking his shoulder. Athos moaned and rolled over, his eyes shooting open when he heard a frightened squeak. Looking down, he noticed d’Artagnan was moments away from being crushed between Athos and the wall. He frowned. 

‘I thought you shared a bunk bed with ‘Mis?’

‘You’re awake!’ the annoying voice, which Athos now recognized as Aramis’, exclaimed. 

‘He stole my blankets,’ d’Artagnan grumbled. ‘Didn’t wanna wake up yet.’

‘Yeah, and then you cheated by crawling into Athos’ bed! You’re not supposed to do that. When I pull your blankets off, you get up.’

‘I did,’ d’Artagnan protested. ‘I got up and went to Athos’ bed.’

Aramis huffed and sat down on the edge of the bed. A moment later, his face brightened and he started pulling at Athos. 

‘Come on, you have to get up! We’re going mountain biking today and breakfast is almost done!’

When his brothers still refused to get up, Aramis used his trump card. 

‘Dad made pancakes for breakfast. There’s chocolate chip and buttermilk.’

That got Athos and d’Artagnan out of bed real fast. Within a moment they were dressed and in the kitchen/living room, devouring their pancakes. 

*****

Aramis cheered as he flew over the gap with his mountain bike. When he reached the other side, he made a nice sliding stop. He stared defiantly at Porthos, daring him to do better. Porthos accepted the challenge and went up the ramp, letting go of his handlebars when he was mid-air to wave at Aramis. He landed perfectly on the other side, smiling smugly at his younger brother. 

‘There, I topped it.’

Aramis grumbled and stared at the other side of the gap, where the rest of their family was still standing. Something seemed wrong, since d’Artagnan was shaking his head vehemently. And then it clicked for Aramis. 

‘The pup is scared of the jump. We’re making it too hard for him.’

Porthos’ eyes widened in understanding. When their dad had allowed him and Aramis to pick the route, they hadn’t thought of their youngest brother. D’Artagnan had been mountain biking with them before, but he had never made such a big jump. 

Athos sighed as he and his dad tried to convince d’Artagnan to make the jump. He understood that it was scary, but there was no other way to get across, nor could they go back the way they came. He silently cursed Porthos and Aramis for choosing this route. In their excitement, they had probably picked the most challenging route, with lots of big jumps, small paths and steep hills. When Athos noticed tears forming in d’Artagnan’s eyes, he came up with what he hoped was a good solution. 

‘d’Art, do you trust your brothers?’

D’Artagnan nodded, trying his best to blink his tears away. 

‘Okay, then how about when you make the jump, Porthos, Aramis and me will be standing on the other side to make sure you don’t fall? Would you trust us to catch you?’

Treville frowned at Athos’ offer. Although he was sure his sons would do anything to catch their youngest, it was a quite dangerous plan. After all, there was the chance of d’Artagnan’s bike hitting one of the boys. The problem was, d’Artagnan had to make the jump, there was simply no other way. Treville sighed. He had hoped to get through this vacation without major headache causing problems. 

D’Artagnan looked at the gap and back at Athos. He trusted his brothers, not a single nerve in his body doubted that. But the jump was so big! It looked really scary. Although Porthos and Aramis made it look like a lot of fun. Porthos even let go of his handlebars in the air! Finally, he decided to trust on Athos. If he said his brothers would catch him, then d’Artagnan believed him. 

‘I’ll do it. I trust you.’

Athos smiled proudly at him, before getting on his bike and going towards the ramp really fast. When he flew through the air, Athos pumped a fist in the air. He loved jumps like these, they gave such an adrenaline rush. He landed on the other side without a problem, covering his brothers with dirt. 

‘Is the pup going to make the jump?’ Aramis asked. 

‘Yeah, he is. Put your bikes on the ground, I promised we’d catch him if he falls.’

D’Artagnan took a deep breath as he stared at the ramp. His brothers were on the other side of the gap, shouting encouragements at him. He looked back at his dad, who had a hand on his shoulder and smiled at him. 

‘You can do this, buddy, me and your brothers know you can. Just remember, go as fast as you can and look straight ahead. When you land, your brothers will help you. Ready?’

D’Artagnan nodded, fear muting him. I trust my brothers, I trust my brothers was the mantra he kept repeating in his head. He put his feet on the pedals and when his dad let go, he went as fast he could.   
He hit the ramp and suddenly he was flying. He screamed in excitement, his fear melting like snow before the sun. Before he knew it, his bike hit the ground and there were hands steadying him. 

‘Well done, little brother,’ Athos said with a smile.

Porthos ruffled d’Artagnan’s hair and Aramis hugged him.

‘That was awesome!’ d’Artagnan shouted. ‘Can we do it again?’

*****

Treville smiled as he watched his boys playing in the lake. When he planned the vacation, he had made sure there were plenty of outdoor activities for his sons to do. After all, they were very active boys. Athos was on the varsity track team, Porthos was on multiple sports teams (it depended on the season), Aramis played soccer and d’Artagnan played baseball. The four of them also had fencing class twice a week, something they did together. 

Treville was glad his sons liked sports so much. His colleagues were always complaining about their kids who were addicted to their phones and tv. Treville had no such problems. Sure, his two youngest watched cartoons on Saturday morning and the family watched Top Gear once a week. But aside from that, the boys rarely watched tv, sans the occasional match. And when it came to their phones, sure they texted their friends but besides from texting and calling, they didn’t do much with those either. 

Porthos’ shouting made him look up, thus interrupting his thoughts. He laughed when he saw what had happened. For the last five minutes, Porthos had been dunking Aramis, showing no signs of stopping anytime soon. Then, when Porthos had been busy pushing Aramis under once again, Athos had swum up behind him and suddenly dunked Porthos. The 16-year old emerged from the water to a roar of laughter and started shouting that it wasn’t fair. 

‘Oh, stop whining,’ Athos chuckled. ‘You have been dunking Aramis for the last five minutes, it’s only fair that you got a taste of your own medicine.’

‘I’ll show you fair!’ Porthos roared, although his eyes twinkled with laughter. 

With a big jump, he landed right on top of Athos, thus starting an impromptu wrestling match. Aramis jumped in to help his oldest brother, Athos had saved him after all. D’Artagnan then came to the aid of Porthos, since he didn’t think two against one was fair. 

After wrestling for a good ten minutes, the boys agreed to a truce, since neither of the teams had managed to win. Aramis then climbed on Porthos shoulders, prompting Athos to lift d’Artagnan on his. 

‘Attack!’

Aramis and d’Artagnan pushed as hard against each other as they could, trying to make the other fall over. Although Porthos and Aramis had been sure they would win, since Aramis was stronger than d’Artagnan, they hadn’t calculated on d’Artagnan having an amazing sense of balance, nor had they counted on Athos holding their youngest brother in place. Porthos had to focus on keeping his balance, since Aramis was only two years younger than him and not that much smaller. It was easier for Athos, since d’Artagnan wasn’t much of a weight on his shoulders. 

Aramis cheered in pre-victory when he realised d’Artagnan was falling off. When Athos noticed this, he quickly swept Porthos’ legs out from under him, causing him to fall over, taking Aramis with him.   
Athos and d’Artagnan doubled over in laughter at the stunned expressions on Aramis’ and Porthos’ faces. When Aramis regained his senses, he glared at Porthos. 

‘We lost, because you tripped! D’Artagnan was already falling, I nearly had him! You…’

Aramis was suddenly cut off, because Porthos pushed him under yet again. 

*****

Porthos sighed in relief when they arrived at the cabin. They had gone a rather long hike, almost 5 miles. Now, his endurance was great, but it was still tiring. D’Artagnan in particular, was exhausted. It was the last day of their two week stay in Montana and they had been doing outdoor activities every day. They had enjoyed every second of it, especially since Athos would be leaving for college soon. It was gonna be weird, not having their oldest brother in the house. Now he, Porthos, would have to be the oldest. He was already sure that he was not going to be as good in that role as Athos. See, Athos was a born leader and problem solver. He thought things through and almost never caused any trouble. Porthos was more a do first, think later type. 

Someone bumped his shoulder, pulling him out of his thoughts. Athos smiled at him. 

‘A penny for your thoughts?’

Porthos smiled back at him. 

‘It’s nothing. Just glad to be back at the cabin.’

‘Yeah, I know what you mean. I love hiking but this was a though one. Seriously, I thought the last hill was never going down again.’

‘Exactly! But I think the pup had the most problems. Last time I saw him, he looked about to collapse.’

‘Dad said he earned a piggyback ride, after doing this hike without a single complaint. I think he fell asleep on dad’s back.’

‘He did,’ Aramis suddenly piped up from beside them. ‘Any of my amazing older brothers kind enough to let me ride on their back as well?’

Athos and Porthos stared into Aramis’ beseeching brown eyes and then looked at each other. As one they said: ‘No!’

Aramis pouted but didn’t continue on the matter. When they finally arrived at their cabin, the three all but fell onto the couch. Treville laughed before gently placing a sleeping d’Artagnan on a chair. The boy curled into himself but didn’t wake up. 

‘I’m going to make dinner. I need one of you to set the table, and another to wake your brother up.’

Athos volunteered to set the table, while Porthos woke d’Artagnan up. Aramis stayed on the couch, claiming he was too tired to lift a single muscle.

After dinner, which consisted of pizza, the family made a beeline for bed. The boys said goodnight to their dad and got ready for bed in record time. To the others’ great confusion, Aramis started throwing all the blankets and pillows on the floor, even getting extra’s from the cabinet. 

‘What are you doing?’ Porthos asked. 

‘Isn’t it obvious? I’m creating a big bed for us to share. This is our last evening together, since Athos is leaving for college tomorrow. Now, are you gonna help me or not?’

Together, the four of them created a big and comfortable make-shift bed on the floor, which they immediately occupied. As usual, Athos and Porthos were laying on the outside and Aramis and d’Artagnan were in the middle. 

‘Okay,’ Aramis said. ‘Before we go to sleep, I want everyone to give a short speech. Tell what has been bothering you lately. Porthos, you’re first.’

Porthos sighed. He suspected Aramis knew exactly what he had been thinking about earlier and wanted him to confess it. Sneaky little bugger. 

‘Well, we all know Athos is leaving soon. Which means I will be the oldest brother at home. I’m afraid that I won’t be as good as Athos. I mean, I am no leader or a problem solver. I don’t think things through.’

Athos started laughing softly. 

‘I’m sorry, it’s just funny. Porthos, everyone is different. You are a great big brother, I’ve got ‘Mis and d’Art as proof. Sure, you should think more before you act. But we can always count on you to be there for us. And that’s the most important quality an older brother should have. You will do just fine, trust me.’

Porthos smiled. 

‘Thanks, ‘Thos.’

‘Anytime, little brother, anytime.’

‘My turn now!’ Aramis said excitedly. ‘I’m gonna start high-school this year and I’m nervous.’

‘Why?!’ Porthos exclaimed. ‘Your grades are amazing, especially in science!’

‘Yeah, but that’s just it. I want to be a doctor someday and everyone says I should go to Yale or MIT. But those are really hard to get into and I don’t know if I can do that. I want to have fun too.’

‘I think you’ll be fine,’ d’Artagnan said. ‘Athos got into Harvard College and he still had time to have fun. Besides, you don’t have to go to Yale or MIT. I don’t think our doctor went there. And, I heard dad   
say that you are capable of getting an A in Biology while barely studying for your tests.’

‘Yeah, I guess you’re right. I’ve got time to figure out where I want to go, I’m only fourteen. Thanks pup. Now it’s your turn.’

‘Why? I’m not upset.’

‘Sure you’re not. Is there nothing bothering you?’

‘I’m a bit sad there will be no one to pick me up after school. But it’s okay, dad said I get to use the school bus now.’

‘We’ll still pick you up some days. And maybe Athos will surprise you when he visits us. Besides, the bus is a lot of fun. You can talk with your friends and when it’s raining, you won’t get soaked. And most important, you’re not screwed when Aramis gets in trouble.’

‘Hey!’ Aramis exclaimed, indignantly. 

D’Artagnan laughed, as did Athos and Porthos. 

‘He is right, you know he is, ‘Mis.’

‘Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I have to agree with it,’ Aramis grumbled. ‘Anyways, Athos, it’s your turn now.’

‘I’m gonna miss you three. I mean, college is exciting and I definitely want to go, but it’s going to be weird. When I arrive at my dorm after a long day, there won’t be any little brothers to annoy me. And I’m unsure about the whole idea of a roommate.’

‘Need I remind you that you’ve been sharing a bedroom with the pup for four years?’

‘Yeah, but that’s different. I know d’Art, he’s my little brother. I can trust him and I love him. I know he won’t do any weird stuff and he won’t keep me from my homework. And it’s just…I’m not very good at making friends.’

‘We’ve noticed.’

‘Shut up, Aramis, you know what I mean. I’m not a big fan of crowds or just the feeling of being surrounded. And I’ll just miss being with my family. We have our problems and we fight, but that’s family. In the end, being with you and dad means love, safety and laughter. And nothing in the world can replace that.’

‘First of all,’ Aramis said. ‘That sounded incredibly sappy, I thought you didn’t do chick-flick moments. But, I get what you’re saying, ‘Thos. But trust me, you will be happy at college. You’ll skype us every night, so you won’t get a chance to miss us. And I’m sure you will make friends. Maybe not a bunch of them, but some. I mean, you’re going to Harvard College, for crying out loud! Lots of people who are just as smart as you. Promise me that you will give it a shot.’

Athos smiled at Aramis. 

‘I promise.’

‘Great,’ d’Artagnan said, sounding very sleepy. ‘We have all had our heartfelt speeches, now can we please go to sleep?! I’m tired.’

His brothers laughed but agreed. Soon enough, the four boys fell asleep. If someone would have looked into their bedroom during the night, they would have soon the four brothers completely snuggled up against each other, all of them touching the other somehow.


	20. Knocking on heaven's door

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was based on a prompt I got ff.net about Treville getting hurt and the boy's reaction to it. I apologize for any medical mistakes I have made in this chapter. Artistic license?

Porthos reluctantly opened his eyes when he heard his alarm beep at six ‘o clock. No, he definitely did not appreciate having to leave his warm and comfy bed. As he sat up, he looked over to Aramis’ bed and sighed. Apparently, somewhere during the night, d’Artagnan had crawled into Aramis’ bed again. For the last two weeks, Porthos would wake up to either the sight of d’Artagnan curled up against Aramis or himself. They had asked him about it, of course, but the kid refused to talk about it. Porthos assumed it had something to do with Athos not being home anymore. 

Aramis woke up with something warm attached to his side. He immediately knew who it was and looked to Porthos, who shrugged. Frowning, Aramis tried to remember if he had noticed d’Artagnan sneaking into his bed. To his disappointment, he didn’t. Suddenly, the door to the hallway opened and their dad entered. 

‘Hey boys, I’m glad you’re awake. I just got a call from work, they need me there as soon as possible. There’s cereal in the cabinet and your lunch is on the counter. Aramis, I don’t want any calls from your school, understood?’

‘Yes, dad. When will you be home?’

‘If everything goes well, same time as usual. Porthos, if I’m not home by six, order pizza. I’ll pay you back, okay?’

‘Sure, dad, no problem. What’s happening at work?’

Treville sighed. 

‘Can’t tell you that. Have fun today and give d’Artagnan a hug for me.’

Just as he was about to leave, d’Artagnan’s eyes shot open and he bolted upright, breathing heavily. His eyes darted around the room and finally settled on Treville. The eight-year old jumped out of bed and ran over to Treville, clinging onto his arm. 

‘Don’t go, dad! You can’t go!’

Treville frowned and crouched down in front of his youngest son. Tears were streaming down the boy’s face and there was unadulterated fear in his eyes. 

‘Please, daddy,’ d’Artagnan pleaded. ‘I need you, you can’t leave me.’

Porthos and Aramis were thoroughly confused. The last time d’Artagnan had said daddy, was two years ago. The last time d’Artagnan had begged their dad not to leave was even longer ago. 

‘It’s alright, son, I’ll come back. I always come back, remember? You’re my sons, I would never leave you.’

D’Artagnan let out a sob, not convinced at all. Treville sighed. He wanted to comfort his son, more than anything, but he had to get to work. Innocent lives depended on it. He gently grasped the back of d’Artagnan’s head and pulled him closer. 

‘Listen to me, d’Artagnan, I love you and I promise you I will come back. But you have to be strong now. Can you do that for me? Because I need to go, need to save people. Do you understand?’

D’Artagnan nodded sadly. 

‘Good boy. Have fun today and I’ll see you tonight.’

He quickly hugged his youngest and left. 

*****

Porthos sighed in relief when Spanish class finally ended. While shouldering his bag and leaving the classroom, he thought about d’Artagnan’s behaviour. He just didn’t understand what had caused it. As promised, they had skyped with Athos every night and d’Artagnan seemed fine then. 

At his locker, he met up with Charon, who greeted him enthusiastically. Together, they went to the cafeteria and sat down at their usual table, where some of their team members were already sitting. 

‘So,’ Charon said. ‘Still happy that you chose to take Spanish again?’

‘I’m glad that I didn’t take the AP class, that’s for sure. Regular is hard enough as it is and boring. I don’t get what Aramis likes about it.’

‘Is he taking the honours class?’

‘Not just that, man. He’s taking the sophomore class. I should have seen that coming, I mean, Spanish is his first language.’

Charon was about to answer when Porthos phone rang. Glancing at the unknown number, he picked up. 

‘Porthos Treville, speaking. Who is this?’

Charon frowned in worry when he saw Porthos blanch, his grip on the phone becoming vice-like. Fear and shock were filling his friend’s eyes, making Charon worry even more.   
Porthos hung up rather suddenly, grabbing his stuff and walking away. Charon ran after him. 

‘What’s wrong?’

‘I have to find Aramis. We have to leave, now.’

*****

Athos groaned in exasperation when he felt his phone vibrate again. For almost an hour now, his phone had been vibrating because some unknown number tried to call him, thus distracting him from the lecture the professor was giving. 

Making sure nobody was looking, Athos pulled out his phone and glanced at the caller ID. His eyes widened when he saw Porthos was calling him. Immediately packing his stuff, he left the room while answering his phone. 

‘What happened?’

‘Thank God, you finally answered! Hospital’s been trying to call you for at least an hour! You need to get home, now!’

‘I’m going to my car now, I’ll be there as soon as I can.’

He hung up and ran to his car. Throwing his bag in the backseat, he got behind the wheel and started the car. As soon as he had left the parking lot, Athos stepped on the gas, wanting to go as fast as he could. The urgent tone in Porthos’ voice had let him know that he had to be at the hospital as soon as humanly possible. 

*****

Porthos paced the waiting room, every now and then glancing at his younger brothers. He didn’t know what to do. He had to comfort his brothers, as good older brother should, but he was barely keeping it together. How do you deal when your dad is dying? Porthos felt tears burn his eyes and he angrily rubbed them away. His younger brothers couldn’t see him cry, not now. He had to be strong, for them. 

Athos burst through the entrance, immediately seeking out his family. He noticed Porthos, who looked to be at the verge of crying. The look in Porthos’ eyes was one Athos knew all too well. It was the look of someone trying to be strong, but craving comfort more than anything. He quickly made his way over and hugged his brother. For a moment, Porthos froze, but then he hugged Athos back. A small sob escaped the 16-year old, causing Athos to hold him tighter. 

‘Let it out, brother, I’m here.’

Those were the magic words, for Porthos’ resolve crumbled and he started crying. Athos rubbed his back, while keeping up a steady stream of comforting words. Meanwhile, he sought out the rest of his family. He spotted Aramis and d’Artagnan huddled together. At first, he was relieved, but then he realised what it meant. His heart skipped a beat and his mind cried out in agony. 

‘Dad,’ he whispered. 

Porthos looked up, having calmed down just a bit. 

‘H-he was shot, ‘Thos. He’s in surgery now.’

Athos swallowed heavily, then nodded. 

‘Okay, so we have to wait. Do you think you can help me comfort our brothers?’

Porthos nodded, relieved to have Athos taking control. Together they walked over to Aramis and d’Artagnan, who had hidden themselves in a corner. The sight that met them was heart-breaking. Both boys were staring into the distance, seemingly frozen. Big fat tears were rolling down their faces and they were clinging to each other like a lifeline. 

Porthos went to hug Aramis, but as soon as he touched him, the younger boy screamed and went rigid. Athos and Porthos shared a worried look, before grabbing their brother and holding him. 

‘Sssh, Aramis,’ Porthos whispered. ‘It’s okay, you’re alright. It’s safe, nobody’s going to hurt you. I’m here, with Athos and d’Artagnan. Calm down, you’re safe.’

Slowly, Aramis started to calm down and recognize his surroundings. When he realized the person holding him was Porthos, he broke down crying. 

‘I saw my papá die again. And then he turned into dad and then he died too. He can’t die, Porthos! No puedo perderlo.’ 

‘I know, little brother, I know.’

Porthos wished he could promise Aramis everything would be alright, but he couldn’t. Because he wasn’t sure if everything was going to be alright, if their dad was gonna be okay. 

Athos looked at d’Artagnan, who hadn’t even flinched when Aramis screamed. It was clear the kid was somewhere else. For a moment, he hesitated to touch his youngest brother, not wanting to make the hospital staff suspicious. Eventually, he decided d’Artagnan was more important than the worries of the hospital staff. 

Gently, he pulled the boy into a hug, simply holding him. For a few long moments, nothing happened. Then, a soft whimper left d’Artagnan’s lips, followed by another. 

‘I’m here, d’Art, you can cry. I’m going to take care of you now, don’t worry.’

D’Artagnan cried, but not for very long. For some reason, he suddenly seemed incapable of doing it, now that somebody told him he could. But before Athos could try to figure it out, Aramis and Porthos joined their hug. 

*****

Athos hadn’t realised he had fallen asleep until he was startled awake by a hand on his shoulder. Looking up, he noticed a doctor standing before him, smiling sympathetically at him. He tried to stand up but failed, due to the fact d’Artagnan was curled up on his lap, and both Porthos and Aramis were sleeping with their heads on his shoulders. 

‘Need a hand?’ the doctor asked. 

‘Yes, please. Could you hold my youngest brother for a minute?’

He carefully transferred a sleeping d’Artagnan from his lap into the doctor’s outstretched arms. Then, he gently made sure Porthos was leaning against the wall and placed Aramis’ head on the 16- year old’s shoulder. Standing up, Athos took d’Artagnan back from the doctor and placed him on Porthos’ lap. 

‘You are Athos Treville, I assume?’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

‘Can I talk with you for a minute?’

‘Of course.’

They walked towards the reception desk, so they wouldn’t wake up Athos’ brothers. 

‘Do you have news about my father?’

‘Yes, but I’m afraid it’s not good.’

Athos’ eyes went wide with fear. 

‘Please tell me he didn’t die!’

‘No, but he isn’t doing very good. During the operation, his heart stopped. We were able to get it beating again, but the bullet got very close to his heart. Right now, he’s in the ICU and I’m not sure if he will last the night. I am truly sorry.’

Athos barely noticed the tears streaming down his face. His mind was trying the process the news just given to him. His dad, the man who had cared for him since he was nine, could be dying. Athos choked on his breath. He couldn’t lose another loved one. 

‘I-if he survives the night, w-will he be okay?’

‘He will have a good chance at a full recovery, if he survives. I really hope he does, but I’m afraid it would take a miracle. Do you want me to take you and your brothers to the ICU?’

Athos nodded, silently making his way back to the waiting room. He was met by a very awake Aramis, who took one look at Athos’ face and promptly started crying again. This woke Porthos up. He immediately hugged his younger brother and looked at Athos with pleading eyes. 

‘I’m sorry,’ Athos whispered hoarsely. ‘They say he probably won’t make it. The doctor is going to take us to him now.’

Porthos’ eyes filled with tears and he bit his lip, nodding silently. D’Artagnan woke up when Athos softly shook his shoulder. When he noticed the sadness in his oldest brother’s eyes, his own brown eyes filled with fear. Athos lifted him up and motioned for Porthos to get Aramis on his feet. 

When they arrived at the doors of the ICU, the doctor stopped them. 

‘I want to warn you, your father is in very bad shape. He probably won’t look like you’re used to.’

The boys nodded, not really being capable of speaking. The doctor opened the doors to let them enter. Before she left, she said: ‘You can take your time, stay with him for a while. Warn a nurse if something happens.’

Aramis was the first to avert his eyes. Their dad looked really pale, with lots of machines surrounding him. It didn’t look like their dad at all. Aramis felt like he was trapped in a nightmare. His dad was his hero, he was supposed to be invincible. He was supposed to shoot the bad guys, not the other way around. Aramis felt Porthos wrap an arm around his shoulders. Suddenly, his knees buckled and he would have fallen to the ground, if Porthos’ arm hadn’t kept him steady. 

Porthos felt like he was falling into unending blackness. His whole life was crumbling, because ¼ of the core was gravely hurt. He was going to lose his dad, the first grown-up person after his mom died who truly loved him. The man who gave him the life his mom always wanted for him. The walls were closing in on him and it felt like he couldn’t breathe. Porthos wrapped an arm around Aramis’ shoulders, to not only comfort his brother but also himself. 

Athos was lost. His dad was hurt and would probably not even last the night. And he didn’t even get to say goodbye. Didn’t get the chance to tell his dad one last time that he loved him and was grateful for everything the man had given him. The worst part was, if he lost his dad tonight, he would also lose his brothers. He would never be allowed custody over the three of them and they would be send into foster-care. It would kill them, especially if they were separated. He hugged d’Artagnan tightly, using the boy as a lifeline. 

D’Artagnan looked at his dad and back at his brothers. Suddenly, he squirmed out of Athos’ arms and very carefully got onto his dad’s bed, making sure not to touch any of the things connecting his dad to the machines. 

‘Daddy? I know you don’t feel so good right now, but you can’t leave, okay? ‘Cause if you leave us, we won’t have a daddy anymore. I can’t lose my daddy again. And you can’t break your promise. You promised you’d come back, remember? So, if you stay asleep for now, that’s okay, but you have to wake up tomorrow. Please wake up tomorrow.’

Athos walked over to the bed and carefully lifted d’Artagnan off. Before he did, however, he leaned to his dad’s ear and whispered: ‘He’s right, dad. We love you, so please wake up. We need you.’

******

Treville woke up with a horrible pain in his chest. Opening his eyes, he groaned when he was met with bright light. He closed them and carefully opened them again, slowly adjusting to the light. A friendly voice to his left made him carefully look to the side. A nurse smiled at him. 

‘Good morning, mister Treville. I am very glad to see that you’re awake. You had us very worried, you know. How are you feeling?’

‘Really sore.’

His voice sounded raspy and the nurse offered him some water. After drinking it, his throat felt a lot better. He smiled and thanked the nurse. 

‘You’re welcome. Now, I think there are four people who would be very glad to know that you’re awake. Shall I wake them up?’

Treville looked to his right and saw another cot there. On the bed were his four sons, sound asleep. 

‘Obviously, this is against hospital policy,’ the nurse said with a smile. ‘But nobody had the heart to send them away. Do you want me to wake them up?’

Before Treville could answer, Aramis awoke with a sob. The teenager looked towards Treville and did a double take when he saw the man was awake. 

‘Dad!’ He exclaimed. ‘You’re awake!’

That woke the other three up really fast and they nearly trampled each other to death in order to get to their father. They were laughing and crying at the same time. Each of them carefully gave him a hug. 

‘We thought you were going to die,’ Athos said. ‘They said you probably wouldn’t last the night.’

‘Well, they were wrong,’ Treville answered. ‘I promised I would never leave you and I intend to keep that promise. I love you boys too much for that.’

******

Treville smiled as he saw Porthos and Aramis break out into a wrestling match halfway through folding the laundry. Athos was in the kitchen, cooking dinner. His sons had banned him from doing anything until he was completely recovered. They always made sure somebody was watching and helping him, which amused Treville greatly.

One thing, however, was bothering him. Three of his four sons seemed completely happy, but his youngest seemed to avoid him. And Treville, for the life of him, couldn’t figure out why. So, while Aramis and Porthos were too occupied with their match, Treville went upstairs to find d’Artagnan. 

He found him in the kid’s bedroom, which he was sharing with Athos again. The boy was laying on his bed, sobbing into his pillow. The sound broke Treville’s heart and he sat down on the edge of the bed, gently placing a hand on the boy’s back. 

‘What’s wrong, son? You’ve been avoiding me ever since I got home. Why?’

D’Artagnan turned around and looked up with such immense guilt in his eyes that Treville was left breathless for a second. Then, d’Artagnan flung himself into his father’s arms. 

‘I’m so sorry!’ he sobbed. ‘I swear I didn’t want to hurt you.’

Treville frowned. 

‘What on earth are you talking about? You didn’t hurt me.’

‘Yes, I did! I dreamt you got shot for weeks and then it actually happened and it’s all my fault. You almost died because of me!’

Treville sighed. It explained the nightmares d’Artagnan had been suffering from and the despair when he left for work. 

‘Listen to me, d’Artagnan. None of it was your fault, do you understand me?’

‘Yes it was! You got shot because of me!’

‘No, I got shot because there are bad people in this world and it’s my job to catch them. You know my job, don’t you?’

D’Artagnan nodded vehemently. 

‘You’re a superhero. You catch bad people like the one who killed my papa.’

‘Exactly. But being a superhero is a dangerous job, you know. Sometimes, you get hurt. But that isn’t your fault. It’s part of the job.’

‘But what if you die?’

Treville smiled. 

‘I will fight every power there is, so I can stay with my sons. Do you believe me when I promise you that?’

‘I believe you, dad.’ 

‘Good boy. Now, how about we make sure your brothers don’t use the laundry as weapons in their wrestling match?’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations  
> No puedo perderlo: I can't lose him


	21. In sickness and in health

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was based on a prompt about a sick d'Artagnan wanting Athos, who is at university. Enjoy!

D’Artagnan sighed as he turned in his bed again. For some reason, he couldn’t fall asleep tonight, no matter what he tried. Feeling too hot, he kicked his blankets away. It didn’t help in the slightest. Rolling onto his other side, he looked at his alarm clock to check the time. He sighed again when he realized it was three in the morning. 

He fell asleep at some point, only to have his alarm wake him up at six ‘o clock. Groaning, d’Artagnan pushed himself out of bed and made his way to the bathroom. The cold water from the shower was a very welcoming feeling on his skin. Seconds after he had finished, Aramis dove into the shower, crowing in victory. Porthos came in after him, grumbling about the loss. That quickly changed when Aramis shrieked at the coldness of the water. 

‘That’s cold, way too cold!’

Porthos sniggered and d’Artagnan quietly slipped out of the bathroom. Normally, he would have laughed at Aramis as well, but today his brothers were just too loud. During breakfast, he wasn’t able to finish his bowl of Lucky Charms and milk, pushing it away when he had only eaten half of it. His dad gave him a strange look but wasn’t able to ask any questions, due to the fact that Porthos and Aramis had decided to throw cereal at each other. 

After having been dropped off at school, d’Artagnan discovered that his legs had apparently turned into lead, since they were really heavy to lift. Finally, he reached his classroom, only to find it was too loud in there as well. He buried his head in his arms, hoping to drown out the noise. 

Around lunchtime, the light was hurting d’Artagnan’s eyes. He poked his lunch, not wanting to eat it. But when he saw the teacher looking his way, he quickly stuffed his sandwich in his mouth. That proved to be a horrible mistake, because mere minutes later, his stomach was churning. He felt bile creep up his throat and forced it back down. 

On the playground, he finally lost the battle against his stomach and sprinted back inside. He barely made it to one of the toilet stalls when his lunch made a reappearance in the toilet bowl. His hands, which were resting on either side of the toilet seat, were shaking, as were his arms. His entire body ached and his head was throbbing like someone was drilling into his skull. 

D’Artagnan tried to steel himself when another wave of nausea hit him, causing the boy to throw up again. When he finally finished, he slumped against the wall. He was simply too tired to even consider getting up. A knock on the door made him look up. 

‘d’Artagnan?’ his teacher’s voice sounded worried. ‘Sweetie, are you in there?’

D’Artagnan was about to respond when his stomach made itself known, yet again. Moaning loudly, he curled into himself. He heard the door open and felt someone crouch down in front of him. A cool hand was put against his cheek. 

‘Oh, sweetie, you’re burning up. Come, let’s get you to the nurse’s office.’

She gently helped him up, but his legs trembled and he would have fallen down if she hadn’t held him upright. D’Artagnan’s head felt muddled and he hadn’t processed what the teacher said. One thought was very clear in his mind, though. 

‘Athos,’ he mumbled. 

The teacher sighed when she noticed d’Artagnan was not capable of walking in his current state. She knelt down in front of him, gently grasping his head to make him look at her. 

‘d’Artagnan, I’m going to lift you up and carry you to the nurse, okay? I promise that if you tell me to put you down, I will.’

D’Artagnan just stared at her, his eyes glazed over. The world was spinning around him and he didn’t like it, not one bit. He was also starting to feel cold, even though he knew it was around 62 degrees outside. Wrapping his arms around himself, he shivered. Suddenly, he was lifted up and carried somewhere. He hoped whoever was carrying him would bring him to Athos. He wanted his brother. 

*****

Treville parked his car and all but ran to the entrance of the elementary school. Twenty minutes ago, he had received a call from the school nurse, informing him d’Artagnan was sick and needed to be picked up. It hadn’t been that much of a surprise for him, he had suspected his youngest was coming down with something when the kid didn’t finish his breakfast. 

When he got to the nurse’s office, he was met by an elderly woman who smiled at him. 

‘You must be d’Artagnan’s father. He’s sleeping right now and I suspect has stomach flu. It has been going around lately and he isn’t the first to catch it. You need to sign him out here, as well as at the front desk and then you can take him home. I put a list with suggestions for taking care of him in his backpack.’

Treville nodded and they stepped into the office, where they were met with the sound of d’Artagnan dry-heaving into the toilet. Treville immediately made his way over and knelt down next to his son, rubbing his back and whispering words of comfort in his ear. He could feel the heat radiating of the boy. 

When d’Artagnan had finished, Treville helped him into his coat and lifted him up. Thanking the nurse, he signed his kid out and went home. 

*****

Aramis entered through the backdoor and immediately felt like something was wrong. There was a certain sort of tension hanging in the air. He hung his coat away and ran upstairs, only to be met by the sound of someone throwing up. Wincing in sympathy, he entered d’Artagnan’s bedroom. The sight that met him was pitiful. 

D’Artagnan was on his bed, throwing up into a bucket. Tears were streaming down the boy’s face. The vomit was not only coming from his mouth but from his nose as well, which Aramis knew was even worse. It burned your nose like hell and it also left an awful smell there. He felt really bad for his little brother. When the kid finally finished, he put his bucket aside and buried his head into his pillow, sobbing miserably. 

Aramis was about to go over and comfort him, when his dad entered with a glass of water. He motioned for Aramis to wait outside, which the teenager did. After a few minutes, his dad stepped outside. 

‘What’s wrong with the pup?’

‘He has stomach flu. It’s very contagious, so I don’t want you and Porthos to spend a lot of time in your brother’s room. Understood?’

Aramis stared at him indignantly. 

‘I want to help, and I know Porthos will as well.’

‘I know you do and I promise I’ll let you help. I just don’t want you two to catch it as well, understood?’

‘Yes, sir!’ Aramis said with a mock-salute. 

‘Go do your homework and then you can help me take care of your brother.’ Treville said with a laugh. 

******

D’Artagnan tossed and turned, since his fever wouldn’t allow him to sleep comfortably. He pulled his blankets closer, shivering from the cold. His head was about to burst and his stomach was rebelling fiercely. He whimpered and tried to curl into himself further, hoping it would make the pain go away. 

A hand was rubbing circles on his back and someone was talking to him. Hoping it was Athos, he forced his eyes open. His vision blurred in and out of focus, making it hard to tell who was sitting on the side of his bed. When he was finally able to make out black curls, he closed his eyes again and turned away from the person sitting next to him. He wanted Athos. 

Porthos sighed when d’Artagnan turned away from him. He understood the kid wasn’t feeling too good, but Porthos only wanted to help. Their dad had given him some children’s Tylenol, to give to d’Artagnan. He looked up when Aramis entered the room, a glass of water in his hand. 

‘How is he? Still asleep?’

‘No, the fever won’t let him. He opened his eyes, but when he saw me, he turned away. Maybe we should leave him alone?’

‘The pup needs the Tylenol, it’ll help with the fever. And he has to drink some, can’t have him go dehydrated.’

Aramis sat down on d’Artagnan’s other side and tried to make him sit up. With a lot of coaxing and help from Porthos, he managed it. The eight-year old stared at them blearily, clearly somewhere else. However, when Aramis put the glass to his brother’s lips, d’Artagnan turned his head away. 

D’Artagnan didn’t want anything, it would only make him throw up again. And he did not enjoy that, thank you very much. When his brothers insisted, he moaned, trying to turn away again. Why didn’t they just leave him alone? Couldn’t they see he wanted Athos? He clutched his stomach in pain when he felt nausea hit him. 

Porthos snatched the bucket from the ground and put it in d’Artagnan’s lap, when he saw the pup turn green. He was just in time, for seconds later, d’Artagnan started throwing up again. 

‘How is that even possible?’ Aramis asked. ‘There can’t be anything in his stomach left!’

Porthos shrugged and both teenagers scrunched their noses up when the disgusting smell of vomit hit them. Soon, d’Artagnan was only dry-heaving, because as Aramis had said, there was barely anything in his stomach. When he finished, Porthos took the bucket and put it aside. D’Artagnan laid down and curled into himself again, whimper escaping him every now and again. 

Porthos and Aramis tried to comfort him, but he pushed them away. At first, they didn’t understand, but then their little brother started mumbling about Athos. Aramis actually hit himself. 

‘How come we didn’t think of that? Why hasn’t dad called Athos yet?’

‘Because I don’t want Athos to drive all the way home and thus abandoning his classes,’ Treville answered from the doorway. 

Aramis and Porthos looked up and stared them indignantly. Treville sighed and entered the room as well. 

‘I feel bad for d’Artagnan, I really do. And I know he wants Athos, but I know your brother. If we call Athos and tell him d’Art is sick, he will drop whatever he’s doing and drive home as fast as he can.’

‘But d’Artagnan won’t accept our comfort! Every time he was sick, Athos was the one that got him to eat and take his medicine.’

‘Which is exactly my point. Ever since d’Artagnan came to live with us, can you remember a time where d’Art was sick and Athos wasn’t? Stomach flu is very contagious and you know as well as I that we won’t get Athos out of this room until d’Artagnan is better. Which will inevitably lead to Athos getting sick as well.’

And then it dawned on Porthos and Aramis. Their father didn’t want Athos to miss any of his classes, for it would cause him to fall behind. Still, they didn’t like seeing d’Artagnan so upset. 

******

D’Artagnan woke up to the sound of Porthos and Aramis bickering about something. He turned onto his other side and tried to go back to sleep. He had a great dream, about beating Athos in a fencing match. Now that he was awake, he could feel his stomach churning and his head throbbing again. And Athos still wasn’t here. 

‘Dad said we shouldn’t call him!’ Porthos whispered. 

‘I know what dad said. But the pup needs him. We can tell Athos that he just needs to talk to d’Art, not travel all the way back home.’

‘And you think he’ll listen?’

‘Do you have a better idea?! We can only do so much for the pup.’

Porthos sighed. He knew Aramis was right, but it was kind of hurting him that d’Artagnan would only accept Athos’ comfort. He knew it was because d’Artagnan was hurting and was used to be comforted by Athos when that happened. Still, it wasn’t exactly a boost for his self-confidence. 

Aramis, taking Porthos’ silence for giving in, grabbed his phone and called Athos. It rang a few times before his brother picked up. 

‘What’s up, Aramis? You going to bed early or something?’

‘No, I just had dinner. It’s about the pup. He’s sick.’

There were a few beats of silence at the other end of the line, before Athos responded. 

‘How bad? Is he in the hospital, do I have to come home?’

‘No, no, no! It’s just the stomach flu, but he keeps asking for you. I thought we could call you and you could talk with the pup. Comfort him, y’know?’

‘Haven’t you done so already?’

Aramis sighed. 

‘He’s refusing us, only wants you.’

‘Give him the phone.’

Aramis walked over and placed a hand on d’Artagnan’s back. His brother looked up at him with a disappointed look, for he knew Aramis wasn’t Athos. Handing his brother the phone, Aramis took a step back. D’Artagnan put the phone to his ear with a confused look. 

‘Hello?’ he asked. 

‘Hey, d’Art. Aramis told me you’re sick.’

‘Athos!’ d’Artagnan exclaimed happily. 

‘It’s always nice to hear I’m appreciated,’ Athos chuckled. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Everything hurts, I’m cold and I can’t stop throwing up. I hate being sick.’

‘I know, you’re not the only one. Have you taken some medicine yet?’

‘Don’t want it. It’ll just make me sick again.’

‘I know you don’t want to put anything in your stomach right now, but some Tylenol will help with the fever. I promise it won’t upset your stomach. And you have to drink some water too. Otherwise you’ll get even more sick. You wouldn’t want that, would you?’

‘No.’

‘I thought so. Now, you know how much I care about you, right?’

‘Uh-huh.’

‘Well, Porthos, Aramis and dad care about you just as much. They want to help you.’

‘But I want you.’

‘I know, buddy, but I can’t help you right now. The others can and you need to show them you trust them as much as you trust me. ‘Cause I know you trust them. So, if you promise you’ll let them look after you the way I would, I promise to come visit this weekend. Deal?’

‘Deal.’

‘Good boy. Now give Aramis his phone back and let Porthos give you your medicine. I’ll see you soon.’

‘Okay, bye.’

After handing Aramis the phone, d’Artagnan pulled on Porthos’ sleeve. Porthos sat down on the edge of the bed and grasped his arm. 

‘What’s wrong?’

‘My stomach hurts,’ d’Artagnan whimpered. ‘And my head too.’

Porthos sighed in relief and grabbed the cup of children’s Tylenol. 

******

Athos parked his car and hopped out. Grabbing his bag from the trunk, he walked up to the front door and pulled his key from his pocket. Inside, he hang his jacket away and walked upstairs. When he got the top, he was met by a very worn-out looking Treville. 

‘Athos,’ he said. ‘You’re early. How was your trip?’

Athos opened his mouth to answer but was interrupted by the sound of someone throwing up. Treville groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. Wordlessly, he turned around and made his way to Porthos’ and Aramis’ room (which confused Athos). 

Once they stepped inside, Athos bit his lip to hold back a smile. Porthos and Aramis had pushed their beds together, a sleeping d’Artagnan in the middle. Porthos, however, was hunched over a bucket, purging his stomach of whatever had been in there. Aramis was nowhere to be seen, but a groan from the bathroom told Athos enough. 

‘I hate being sick,’ Porthos announced, once he was done throwing up. 

‘Well, you only have yourself to blame,’ Treville said. ‘I warned you that the flu was contagious but you didn’t listen. It was your idea to let d’Artagnan sleep with you.’

‘That was my idea,’ Aramis called from the bathroom. ‘Ugh, why did I ever think it was a smart one?’

‘Because you’re an idiot!’

Athos chuckled softly and turned towards his dad. 

‘I assume they got sick as soon as d’Art started getting better?’

‘I wish. No, they got sick only a day after d’Artagnan. I’ve been playing household nurse since Tuesday.’

Athos, once again, felt a lot of respect for his father. He knew how hard it was if one son was sick, let alone three. It explained why his dad looked so tired. 

‘How about you take a break and I’ll play nurse for these three? We can switch once you’ve had some rest.’

Treville was all too happy to make that deal.


	22. Why we don't watch horror movies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ages: Athos is 20, Porthos is 18, Aramis is 16 and d'Artagnan is 10.

‘I say we watch The Shining. It’s a classic.’

‘No way! It’s not scary enough. We should watch The Texas Chainsaw Massacre.’

‘Really? What’s with you and your love for violence?’

‘Pot meet kettle. Come on, ‘Mis, it’s scary and just as much of a classic as The Shining.’

D’Artagnan sighed as he listened to his brothers bickering. Their dad had left them home alone for the night, because of something at work. But since it was spring break, they were allowed to watch a movie and sleep downstairs. Just like his brothers, d’Artagnan had been really excited about it. He had hoped they could watch Star Wars, because his classmates said it was a really good movie. Unfortunately, his Porthos and Aramis wanted to watch a different movie. 

‘Okay, I know something. How about we watch The Exorcist? It’s a classic and it was rumoured the set of the movie was cursed.’

Aramis agreed and dove into the box of movies their dad kept next to the TV. Meanwhile, Porthos closed the curtains and checked if the doors were locked. D’Artagnan considered asking if they could watch a different movie, but he didn’t want to seem scared. Besides, how bad could it be? Just because he had never heard of the movie, didn’t mean it wouldn’t be a good one. 

*****

Aramis was about to throw up when Regan did a complete 360 with her head. He had really underestimated this movie. Maybe there was a reason their dad didn’t allow them to watch horror movies after all. If this was the reason, than Aramis definitely understood. 

When the movie finally ended, Porthos sighed in relief. Horror definitely wasn’t his genre. Next to him, Aramis looked just as happy to see the credits. Next time, they were going to skip the horror movies. The only reason he wanted to see one in the first place was because he was curious what all the fuss was about. Now he knew. 

D’Artagnan stared at the screen wide-eyed and his face was as pale as a ghost. That was the most scariest thing he had ever seen and that included the Kraken from Pirates of the Caribbean. He was definitely going to have nightmares from this. 

******

Athos yawned as he got out of his car. He had gotten up at 4 in the morning so he could be home around 7. Since it was spring break, he would be staying there for an entire week. Their dad had suggested the four of them go to Six Flags today, now that d’Artagnan was finally tall enough to go on some of the bigger rides. 

Athos yelped when he entered and a baseball bat was swung at his head. He ducked just in time and grabbed the bat before it could be swung at him again. Athos did a double take when he saw that the offender was none other than d’Artagnan. 

‘What the heck, d’Artagnan?!’

When he got no response, just a snivel, Athos pulled the baseball bat out of his brother’s hand and tossed it away. He pulled d’Artagnan in his arms and rubbed his back. 

‘It’s okay, buddy, it’s just me.’

D’Artagnan started to cry and grabbed Athos’ jacket as if his life depended on it. Athos looked up when Porthos stormed into the hallway, lacrosse stick in his hand. 

‘Seriously?’ Athos asked. ‘Why is everyone greeting me with their sport equipment?’

Porthos smiled sheepishly and put his stick down. 

‘Sorry, I heard the noise and thought somebody was breaking in. Gotta have some sort of weapon, right? What’s wrong with the pup?’

‘You tell me. I came in and the first thing I see is his baseball bat coming straight at me.’

Athos narrowed his eyes when he noticed Porthos’ bloodshot eyes and pale face. Gently pushing d’Artagnan back a bit, saw d’Artagnan looked just as bad, if not worse. 

‘You two look awful. Where’s Aramis?’

‘I’m here,’ came Aramis’ voice from the living room. ‘Keep it down, will you, I’m trying to sleep.’

Porthos scoffed and walked back to the living room, Athos and d’Artagnan right behind him. Athos’ eyes widened comically at the sight that met him. The two sofas and the two chairs from by the fire place, had been pushed together to form some sort of wall. Pillows had been placed against the windows and all the lights were on. 

‘I’m not even going to ask what happened here. Just clean this up and make sure you get dressed. I’ll make breakfast. I want to leave in an hour.’

*****

‘I want go into the Nitro! Come on, the line isn’t very big.’

D’Artagnan looked disappointed as Aramis pointed to the rollercoaster. He wanted to go as well, but he wasn’t big enough. And if that wasn’t bad enough, because d’Artagnan was small for his age, Athos couldn’t go either. They didn’t want him to be alone. 

Porthos looked at his brothers. D’Artagnan seemed disappointed and rightly so. Athos had assured them that he didn’t mind waiting with d’Artagnan, but when Porthos looked really closely, he could see that Athos would have loved to go into the Nitro. He looked back at Aramis, who was impatiently waiting for him. 

‘Nah, you should go with Athos. I’ll stay with the pup.’

Of course, Athos refused the offer, but Aramis caught on to what Porthos was trying and had started to drag his oldest brother to the line. When they had disappeared, Porthos wrapped an arm around his youngest brother. 

‘Hey, don’t be sad. Next year, we’ll go again and then you can go in all the rides too.’

D’Artagnan scowled at the ground. 

‘I want to be big enough now. I don’t like being the smallest kid in my class.’

‘I know you don’t. How about we go to the arcade when Athos and Aramis are back? You can beat me in air hockey.’

D’Artagnan beamed up at him. After Athos and Aramis had gotten back and they had all laughed at the ridiculous face Aramis had made in the picture the rollercoaster took, they made their way to the arcade. 

Porthos and d’Artagnan played air hockey, cheered on by Athos and Aramis. D’Artagnan won with 10 to 8 and laughed when Porthos made a fool out of himself by dropping to his knees and shaking his fist at the sky, asking the air hockey gods why they hated him. 

Aramis competed against d’Artagnan in a motor racing game and lost. By the time Aramis had figured out how to make his vehicle go faster, d’Artagnan had already crossed the finish line. 

Porthos and Athos played another racing game, with cars. They were driving neck-on-neck almost the entire game. At the end, it was a photo finish, with Porthos going over the line half a second earlier than Athos. 

*****

‘That looks like fun,’ Athos said as he pointed to Skull Mountain. 

To his surprise, his younger brothers backed up a couple of steps. 

‘That’s in complete darkness,’ Aramis said. 

‘Yeah, that’s the point. It’s what makes it exciting.’

‘But it’s in the dark,’ Porthos said. 

‘Since when are you afraid of the dark?’

Aramis realised that if they told Athos they had watched a horror movie, they would be screwed. So he started pushing Porthos towards the entrance. 

‘Never mind,’ he called over his shoulder. 

Athos held out his hand towards d’Artagnan. 

‘Come on, kiddo, it’ll be fun. It’s really not that scary, I promise.’

It turned out not to be so fun. D’Artagnan clung to Athos the entire time and he was sure he had heard Aramis scream a couple of times. When they were outside, Athos found his younger brothers looked rather shaken up. 

‘I don’t get it,’ Athos said. ‘It’s really not that scary, especially for you two,’ he pointed at Porthos and Aramis. ‘Sure, it’s in the dark, but you’ve never minded that before.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Aramis said weakly. He knew what would happen if Athos found out they had watched a horror movie. They would regret it even more. 

But it seemed Athos was already onto them, because he glared Aramis into silence. Suddenly d’Artagnan, who couldn’t take it anymore, cried: 

‘It’s the movie! It was really scary and it gave me nightmares and now I’m scared of the dark. I don’t wanna be possessed!’

Athos’ eyes widened comically and Porthos would’ve laughed, if he hadn’t been afraid for his life. Athos crouched down in front of d’Artagnan and gently grasped the boy’s arms. 

‘What movie are you talking about, d’Art?’

‘The movie we watched last night. I wanted to watch Star Wars but Porthos and Aramis wanted to watch the Exorcist, because it’s a classic. And it was really scary, even scarier than the Kraken of Davy Jones. I don’t want the demon to possess me and I don’t want to kill people!’

D’Artagnan started crying and Athos was spluttering in disbelief. When he had processed his youngest brother’s rant, he stood up. Aramis knew, that if looks could kill, he and Porthos would have been a pile of ash. 

‘You watched the Exorcist with the pup?!’

‘We didn’t realize it would be that scary,’ Porthos argued. 

‘It’s a horror movie! What did you think it was going to be? All rainbows and lollipops? Why did you watch it anyways?’

‘Well,’ Aramis said. ‘I wanted to watch the Shining and Porthos the Texas Chainsaw Massacre, but we couldn’t decide which one we should pick. So, Porthos suggested the Exorcist.’

D’Artagnan was still crying and people were giving them weird looks, so Athos grabbed d’Artagnan’s hand and briskly walked away. After the got to a more secluded spot, Athos knelt down and pulled d’Artagnan in a comforting embrace. After ten minutes of assuring his brother that he would not get possessed or kill anyone, Athos finally managed to calm d’Artagnan down. 

Porthos and Aramis had been opting to make a break for it, but they knew that wouldn’t end well for them. In hindsight, it hadn’t been a smart idea to watch a horror movie with their ten-year old brother. They hadn’t thought it through, they would admit that much. But in their opinion, Porthos and Aramis had already suffered from their mistake. Aside from their own fear and nightmares, they had been woken up every other hour by a screaming and crying d’Artagnan. So, you could say they had already learned their lesson. 

‘Do I even have to tell you that it was not a smart idea?’

‘No,’ Porthos mumbled. 

‘We’re sorry,’ Aramis said. ‘We should never have watched it with the pup. It was too scary, even for us. I promise we’ll never repeat the mistake.’

‘Please don’t tell dad.’

Athos looked at both teenagers. Regret was clear on his brothers’ faces and their sleep deprived eyes told him they had suffered for their mistake. Besides, everyone makes mistakes, right?

‘Fine, I won’t tell dad. But next time you want to watch a horror movie, make sure d’Art is not in the vicinity. Now come on, I want to check out the Joker.’

*****

For a few days, it looked like Porthos and Aramis would get away with their mistake. Every time d’Artagnan woke up because of a nightmare, Athos took care of it. After he had spent two nights in a row being woken up by a crying d’Artagnan every hour, Athos gave up and just shared his bed with his youngest brother. Fortunately, for both brothers, it helped. 

When their dad had asked them which movie they had watched, Porthos had answered the Pirates of the Caribbean 3. Athos had told him and Aramis to give that as an answer to their dad, because d’Artagnan had actually seen that movie, so if dad asked him about it, the kid could answer without blowing their cover. 

But of course, like it’s bound to do, the truth eventually caught up with them. Treville had decided it had been a while since the five of them had had a proper movie night. So, the solution was simple. The boys liked the idea and while Aramis and d’Artagnan proceeded to renovate the entire living room, Athos and Porthos made the popcorn and grabbed the drinks. Treville pulled out Spy Game from the box with movies and walked to the DVD player. The player opened and Treville stared at the DVD it contained. 

‘PORTHOS, ARAMIS AND D’ARTAGNAN TREVILLE!!!!’

Aramis and d’Artagnan immediately dove behind the couch and Porthos used Athos as a human shield. Treville stomped over to his two youngest. When he had almost reached the couch, Aramis peered over the back of it, his eyes widening in fear when he saw his dad’s facial expression. He pulled his head back down and pushed a struggling d’Artagnan forward. 

‘You go first,’ Aramis whispered. 

‘Why do I have to go first?’

‘Because he’s less likely to kill you. Now go!’

‘No, I don’t wanna die. I’m too young.’

‘Well I’m too handsome.’

Before the boys could continue their hushed discussion, Treville had pulled them both from their hiding place. Porthos entered the room, dragging his feet. While Treville lectured Porthos, Aramis and d’Artagnan, Athos hung back. Although his brothers only had to blame themselves for this, he did feel sorry for them. Many admired his father for the endless patience the man seemed to possess when dealing with four rambunctious sons. But, since Treville was only human, even his patience knew a limit. 

Athos could count on two hands the times their dad had truly been angry with them. Yes, they caused a lot of trouble and they tested their limits. But most of the times, a twinkle could be seen in their father’s eyes as he lectured them. However, now was not one of those times. 

‘I strictly forbid horror movies,’ Treville lectured. ‘And yet you go ahead and watch one when I’m not at home. With your ten-year old brother nonetheless!’

‘If you forbid them, then why do you have three of the classics?’ Aramis asked. 

Before Treville could respond to that cheeky question, Porthos cuffed Aramis on the head and d’Artagnan stamped down on the teenager’s toes. Now was really not the time to be cheeky. 

‘Don’t be smart with me, son. You’re in a lot of trouble as it is, don’t make it worse for yourself.’

Aramis nodded and bowed his head. His dad and brothers were right, but sometimes he just couldn’t help himself. It was like his mind didn’t know when to filter the smart retorts. This had already caused him a lot of trouble over the years and he knew it would continue to do so. At least he had his brothers to tell him to shut up. 

Porthos sincerely hoped their dad wouldn’t punish them too hard. Sure, they had broken one of his rules and he had every right to be angry. But it wasn’t like they hadn’t already paid for their mistake. Surely their dad would understand that?

When Treville finished his lecture, he looked at his sons. From the shame and guilt on their faces, it was clear they regretted their actions. That always counted for something with him. What also earned the boys points, was that each of them tried to take the blame. And judging the fact that the three of them all slept with at least one light on, as well as how he would find his sons downstairs at the oddest of times and not to forget that both Porthos and Aramis slept with their lacrosse sticks, he would say they had already suffered quite a bit from their mistake. 

‘Alright, here’s the punishment. For the next two months, you can only watch movies for all ages. After spring break is over, all three of you are grounded for a month. And, since it was Porthos’ and Aramis’ idea, you two will do all the chores in this house for two weeks. Aramis, I will let the cheekiness slide just this once. Am I understood?’

‘Yes sir!’ the three of them chorused. 

‘Good boys. Now, let’s watch a movie.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually went through something similair with my little sister once. Watched a movie with her that was much too scary and left her with nightmares. Boy, were my parents mad at me. The irony is that nowadays, my sister loves watching horror movies while I can't stand them. Tried watching IT last summer, ran away screaming five minutes into the movie. Little sis loved it though.


	23. I can't breathe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on a prompt about d'Artagnan having an asthma attack and being unable to find his inhaler.

Aramis prided himself on not panicking very easily. It was a good quality, especially since he wanted to be a paramedic. The few times he could remember himself panicking, was when his family was hurt or in danger. And although he and his brothers were very rowdy, serious accidents happened very rarely. The worst was probably when they were hit by that car, almost four years ago. 

In his 16 years, he had seen bad stuff, the worst being the massacre where he lost his father. And while that had badly traumatised him, it was not the moment he had been most afraid in his life. No, the most afraid Aramis had ever been, was either the day Treville had gotten shot or when d’Artagnan had his first asthma attack. The feeling of helplessness, combined with the fear of losing one of the most important people in his life, had left him reeling. 

Now, an asthma attack might not sound very bad. But d’Artagnan’s attack had been an acute severe, which had scared his family, especially since they couldn’t figure out what was wrong. They had ended up calling 911 and in the hospital, they were told d’Artagnan had asthma. The doctor had explained to them what to do during an asthma attack and told them d’Artagnan had to take medications twice a week. Fortunately, the kid could still do sports, which had been his biggest concern. 

Aramis was pulled out of his musings when Porthos nudged him with his elbow. 

‘Where have you drifted off to then? You’re missing the match.’

Aramis looked at the mat in front of them. D’Artagnan was fencing against another boy, and it was clear that his little brother had the upper hand. It wasn’t that surprising, considering d’Artagnan had been fencing since he was 5 years old and had trained with his older brothers loads of times. It had always been the boy’s aspiration to become as good as his brothers, who had already been fencing for 5 years when d’Artagnan came to live with them. 

Athos had been doing it the longest, and thus was the best of them. Having started at the age of four, Athos was in Advanced by the age of fourteen and in Elite at seventeen. Like the rest of his brothers, Athos enjoyed Épée the most, though he also did Foil and Sabre from time to time. His style was calculated and precise and he had been known in their fencing school as unbeatable. 

Porthos had started at the age of seven, when Athos introduced Aramis and him to the sport. When he had reached the age of fourteen, he was in Intermediate and now, at eighteen, he was in Advanced. The fact that his older brother was better than him didn’t bother him in the slightest, because Athos never tried to rub it in. While he had tried his hand at both Foil and Sabre, Porthos just liked Épée the most, though Sabre was probably a close second. His style couldn’t be more different from Athos’, for he used brute force and he was known as dangerous in their fencing school. 

Aramis started fencing at the age of five, just like d’Artagnan. Like Porthos, by the age of fourteen he had reached Intermediate and at sixteen, he was getting close to Advanced. He enjoyed sparring with Porthos the most, because they were an even match. Aramis loved Épée but he liked Foil as well. His style was elegant and passionate and he was known for his light-footedness in their fencing school. 

D’Artagnan had been fencing for about six years now, and Aramis could honestly say the boy was talented, like Athos was. Nearing the age of eleven, the boy was already in intermediate and his coach had said he could move up to Advanced by the age of twelve. Aramis assumed it was a combination of talent and a lot of private tutoring from older brothers. D’Artagnan loved Épée the most, just like his older brothers, but like Athos, he also did Foil and Sabre. Most of the time, his style was a combination of that of his brothers and he had the reputation of being a fierce fighter in their fencing school. 

Porthos and Aramis cheered when the match ended and d’Artagnan was declared the winner. Smiling, their little brother disappeared into the dressing room and emerged 15 minutes later, his hair wet from the shower. Porthos clapped his little brother on the shoulder and Aramis high-fived him. 

‘You did great, d’Art. That disengage was beautiful, that boy didn’t know what hit him.’

D’Artagnan smiled shyly at the praise. He had been training a lot with his brothers for this match and he was glad it payed off. As they got in the car, Aramis phone rang. 

‘Hello? What, why didn’t you tell?! Yes, I know how a surprise works….yeah, Porthos filmed it on his phone….okay, we’ll see you at home. Bye.’

Aramis hung up and turned to his brothers with a big smile. 

‘That was Athos. He’s home for the weekend.’

*****

The four brothers were watching TV after dinner, when d’Artagnan suddenly felt his chest hurt. A cough followed and his eyes widened when he realised what was about to happen. Jumping of the couch, he stormed upstairs to find his inhaler. By the time he got to his room, d’Artagnan was having trouble breathing. As he looked for his inhaler, his vision was beginning to turn grey at the edges. Breathing was becoming almost possible and the boy started to panic, which didn’t help at all. 

Suddenly, his brothers burst into the room. Porthos took one look at his youngest brother and immediately started searching for the inhaler. Athos and Aramis both grabbed d’Artagnan when the boy’s knees buckled. Aramis grabbed d’Artagnan’s hand and put it on his own chest. 

‘Focus on my breathing, d’Art, no need to panic. Come on, you know the drill. Breathe in, hold it and breathe out. In, hold and out.’

Porthos knelt down next to Athos, frustration and fear in his eyes. 

‘I can’t find his inhaler.’

Athos looked around the room. Porthos had checked every nook and cranny, but no sign of d’Artagnan’s inhaler. 

‘Damn it! Aramis, hold d’Art.’

Athos transferred d’Artagnan in Aramis’ arms and helped Porthos look for the inhaler. They checked every part of the room thrice, but all in vain. Aramis tried to keep his panic at bay for his little brother’s sake, but it was a losing battle. D’Artagnan was slowly turning blue because of the lack of oxygen. He kept alternating between conscious and unconsciousness. 

‘Hey, hey, d’Art, stay with me. We’ll find your inhaler soon enough. Just follow my breathing.’

When d’Artagnan’s chest stopped moving, Aramis’ mind cried out in despair. This was by far the worst asthma attack the pup had ever had. 

‘I need that inhaler, NOW!’

Athos had his hands in his hair, trying to stay calm. Think, he berated himself, think Athos. Suddenly, it hit him. He ran into the bathroom and looked around for the med kit. He knew their dad kept an extra inhaler there. Athos spotted the kit in the corner and opened it. The blue inhaler lay on top and he quickly grabbed it. 

As soon as Athos reached his youngest brother, Aramis grabbed the inhaler from him, shook it and put it in d’Artagnan’s mouth. He pushed it and hoped beyond hope that it would work. 

‘Come on, d’Art, breathe. You’ll be fine, the medicine will help.’

The three waited, knelt by d’Artagnan’s side. When nothing happened, Aramis put d’Artagnan flat on his back. 

‘Athos, call 911. Porthos, get ready to do mouth-to-mouth.’

Athos ran off to grab a phone and Porthos knelt down by d’Artagnan’s head. Aramis put one hand on d’Artagnan’s chest and started CPR. After 15 compressions, he motioned for Porthos to do mouth-to mouth resuscitation. They switched places, Porthos doing the compressions and Aramis the mouth-to-mouth. Athos came running back into the room, phone to his ear. 

‘The ambulance is on its way, they’ll be here as fast as they can. How’s d’Art doing?’

‘I need you to put the phone on speaker and help with the CPR. We need to switch places.’

Athos complied and put the phone on the floor. After having performed CPR for the third time, their hearts nearly gave out with relief when d’Artagnan started breathing again. 

*****

The first thing d’Artagnan noticed was that his chest hurt, a lot. His head was pounding as well and breathing felt uncomfortable. He wasn’t exactly sure where he was, or what had happened, but he knew one thing for sure. He wanted his family. 

His eyelids felt heavy and it took a long time for him to open them. He finally managed to open them, but not much. There was some sort of tube in his nose, d’Artagnan realised. He brought his hand up to touch it, but someone else’s hand stopped him. 

‘Don’t touch that. It’s helping you breathe.’

D’Artagnan turned his head to the side and saw Athos holding his hand. He looked awful. 

‘Hey buddy, how are you feeling?’

‘Hurts.’

D’Artagnan’s voice sounded raspy and Athos helped him drink some water. It wasn’t a particular exhausting exercise, but d’Artagnan felt tired already. A hand on his other arm made him look that way. Aramis and Porthos were standing by his other side, looking just as bad as Athos. 

‘Do you want some painkillers?’ Aramis asked. 

‘No. Wanna go home.’

‘We will,’ Porthos said. ‘As soon as you’re feeling better. You gave us a big scare.’

D’Artagnan frowned, he didn’t remember what had happened. Apparently, it was something bad, seeing as he was in the hospital. 

‘You had an asthma attack, pup,’ Aramis explained. His voice sounded hoarse. ‘A bad one. We had to call 911.’

Athos saw d’Artagnan was about to apologize and silenced him with a look. 

‘There’s no need to be sorry. You go back to sleep and when you wake up, dad will be here.’

D’Artagnan nodded, which proved to be a mistake. His head felt like someone was drilling into his skull. Involuntary tears leaked out of his eyes. He was distracted when he felt his bed move and the matrass dipping. Before he knew it, his three brothers had worked themselves onto the bed. 

Athos wrapped an arm around him and pulled him close. D’Artagnan felt Aramis’ pressing close to his back and Porthos draping his arm over the both of them. When he felt his chest hurt again, his brothers helped him to control his breathing. The feeling of his brothers being close, helped d’Artagnan to calm down. 

He hated asthma attacks, as much as Aramis hated vegetables. What he hated the most was that the attacks were unpredictable. He took his medicine, like the doctor told him, but those stupid things still happened. It felt awful, those attacks. His chest tightened and breathing became unbearable. Most of the times, he could grab his inhaler and everything would be alright. 

But because he had misplaced his inhaler, his brothers had to call the ambulance. His hands clenched the bedsheets with such force that his knuckles turned white. Stupid asthma! Today had been such a great day. He had won a fencing match and Athos had come home for the weekend. And now, thanks to d’Artagnan, they had to spend most of it in the hospital. 

‘Stop it,’ Athos whispered. 

‘It’s not your fault,’ Aramis said. 

‘Nobody blames you,’ Porthos assured him. 

‘B-but…’

‘There’s no but, d’Artagnan,’ Athos said firmly. ‘Like we said, it’s not your fault. I know you hate asthma, we all do. But you didn’t ask for it. You don’t want these attacks and we don’t blame you. Go to sleep now, we know you’re tired.’

D’Artagnan felt relieved by his brothers’ words, but a small part of him still doubted it. But the look all three of his brothers gave him, put that traitorous part to silence. It was clear in their eyes, if he would blame himself one more time, they would hit him with the pillows. 

D’Artagnan finally gave into the tiredness and snuggled close to his brothers. Within seconds, he was sound asleep. Athos, Porthos and Aramis stayed awake for a few more minutes, but the asthma attack had taken a toll on them as well. One by one, they drifted off to sleep, content in the knowledge that their youngest brother was alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used to have asthma as a kid, so I have some experience with it. My dad and grandfather have a more severe version and I can tell you from their experience, yes, attacks like these can turn up out of the blue. You do not wanna know how many times my grandma had to drive my grandfather to the hospital.


	24. I've got you brother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written on the request of the person who proofreads all my stories. She wanted a chapter about the relationship between Treville and d'Artagnan's biological father, so I obliged.

Treville smiled as he watched Aramis chase d’Artagnan around the room. Apparently, the younger boy had pulled a prank on him and Aramis wanted retaliation. It was clear there was no true anger in Aramis’ actions, he just chased his little brother for the fun of it. Nonetheless, Treville kept an eye on them. Those boys were trouble prone and turning his back to them wasn’t a mistake worth repeating. 

Aramis smiled in victory when he had cornered d’Artagnan. He advanced on his little brother, clearly about to tickle him. D’Artagnan though, ducked down and slipped between Aramis’ legs, thus getting out of his situation. He popped back up behind Aramis and turned the tables on his older brother by tickling him instead. The mischievous smirk on the boy’s face reminded Treville of Alexandre. 

The sudden thought hurt Treville. Even though it had been 7 years since his best friend had died, it still hurt. Alexandre had been 27 when he was murdered, way too young to die. The man had missed so many things he wanted to experience, the most important being his son growing up. Treville could still hear the man talking about how excited he was to become a father. He could even remember the day he first met Alexandre. 

*****

‘Now, Jean, you are to behave. It’s a very important day for Mr. and Mrs. Demay, you understand?’

‘Yes, mom. Will there be other children?’

‘I would assume so. Their family has been invited. But if you want to play, you will do it outside. We don’t want to disturb the baby, do we?’

‘No, mom. I promise I’ll go outside.’

When they arrived at the house, Mr. Demay opened the front door before they could ring the bell. 

‘Come in, come in. I’m so glad you’re here.’

Jean quickly lost interest as the grown-up people talked. He liked Mr. and Mrs. Demay, since they were nice people and often let him stay with them when his parents were away. Today, they were hosting a party because they had gotten a baby. Jean was happy for them, but he didn’t understand why he had to be at the party. 

After hanging their coats away, Jean and his parents were led to the living room. Mrs. Demay was sitting on the couch, the baby in her arms. She noticed Jean and smiled, beckoning him closer. He did so hesitantly, not sure what he was supposed to do, aside from behave. When he reached her, she showed him the baby. 

‘Jean, meet my son, Alexandre.’

Jean leaned closer, a bit intrigued by the baby. He had seen one before, when his cousin was born four years ago. But Jean’s aunt refused to let him even come close, claiming the six-year old would upset the baby. Mrs. Demay was different. She wanted him to come see her baby. 

‘What do you think of him?’

Jean scrutinized the baby, because he didn’t want to give an answer that wasn’t completely honest. Alexandre had dark hair and he looked cute. Jean was the most curious about his eyes though. His father always said that you could tell a lot about a person by looking at their eyes. Sadly, Alexandre had his eyes closed. 

‘He looks nice.’

Mrs. Demay chuckled.

‘Thank you. He looks like his daddy, don’t you think?’

Jean nodded and looked around the room a bit. His parents and Mr. Demay had disappeared into the backyard, where a lot of voices were coming from. But, aside from Alexandre, he didn’t see any children. 

‘Are there any other children?’

‘In the backyard, dear. But I wanted to ask you something first, in private.’

‘Sure, Mrs. Demay. What can I do?’

‘I want you to hold Alexandre. Are you okay with that?’

Jean agreed and Mrs. Demay showed him where to sit and how to hold the baby. Suddenly, just as Jean held him, Alexandre opened his eyes. He had beautiful brown orbs and they looked straight at Jean’s blue ones. A warm feeling nestled inside of Jean’s chest and before he knew it, a question tumbled of his lips. 

‘Can I be his big brother?’

Mrs. Demay laughed in surprise. She pondered over the boy’s question for a bit, before answering. 

‘You could be his honorary big brother. But are you sure you’d want that? It’s a big responsibility.’

‘Yes, Mrs. Demay. I’ll be the best brother in the world. Besides, I’ve always wanted a little brother. Have been asking one for five years now, for my birthday and Christmas,’ he frowned. ‘I never got one though. Maybe Santa couldn’t find the right one?’

Mrs. Demay did her best to hold back a laugh. 

‘I’m sure that’s it, dear.’

*****

‘Jean!’

A small force collided with his legs and Jean stumbled back. He looked down and saw Alexandre had wrapped his arms around the teenager’s middle, giving him a big hug. Jean laughed and hugged the six-year old back. 

‘Hey, Alex. How’ve you been?’

‘Good. But you’re late. Mama said you would be here at six ‘o clock.’

‘Sorry, buddy. Homework took longer than I expected.’

‘Nuh-uh. You weren’t doing homework. I saw that girl leaving your house.’

‘Now don’t go all jealous girlfriend on me, Alex. She and I were doing homework together.’

Alexandre huffed and walked to the living room. Jean smirked to himself and dropped his bag by the coatrack. Mr. and Mrs. Demay were out for the evening and had asked him to babysit. Jean didn’t mind. Alexandre was his little brother and he knew the boy saw him as a brother too. 

Suddenly Alexandre appeared in the hallway again. 

‘Come on, I want to play!’

They had played for over an hour when bed-time arrived. When Jean announced this, Alexandre started protesting. It took a lot of coaxing to get the boy ready for bed. Once the boy was in bed, he grabbed Jean’s arm. 

‘Can you tell me a story? I like your stories.’

Jean smiled and ruffled his hair. 

‘Sure. There once were two brothers, who were also best friends.’

*****

‘What the hell were you thinking, Alex?! You could have gotten yourself killed!’

‘I’m sorry,’ the teenager whispered. 

‘Yeah, it’s a bit late for that, don’t you think? How could you be so stupid?’

Alexandre didn’t answer. Jean sighed and was about to punch the wall, when he felt an hand on his arm. Looking to his side, he saw Alexa smiling at him. 

‘Can I talk to you outside for a minute?’

He followed her out into the hallway. 

‘Jean, you have to calm down. I know you’re angry but you’re only upsetting the boy more.’

‘You know what happened! How can I let that slide? He’s lucky to be alive!’

Alexa sighed. 

‘You’re right, what he did was stupid. But don’t you think he’s sorry? He needs his brother to forgive him. Shouting at him is not going to help.’

‘Alexa, he could’ve died! He would have if I hadn’t found him when I did. So excuse me if I’m being angry right now!’

‘I know and you have every right to be. But can you at least stop shouting at him? He needs your help. The boy just lost both his parents, of course he’s upset.’ 

Jean sighed. He knew his wife was right, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t angry. It had scared the crap out of him when he found Alexandre passed out in the living room, an empty syringe next to him. Jean rubbed a hand over his face, nodded at Alexa and went back into the room. 

Alexandre was still sitting up, his eyes downcast. His face was pale, a stark contrast to his usually tanned skin. There were bags under his eyes and his dark hair was a mess. His hands were shaking and an occasional snivel escaped him. All-in-all, it was a pitiful sight and very unlike the teenager Jean knew so well. 

He sat down in the chair next to the bed. 

‘Alex, look at me.’ 

Very slowly, Alexandre dragged his eyes to Jean, although he was careful to avoid looking him in the eye. The brown orbs were bloodshot and wet. Regret and fear swirled around in his gaze. 

‘Alexandre, I’m sorry. I was shouting at you, because you scared me. You looked dead and I was afraid I’d lost you. Why didn’t you tell me what was going on?’ 

‘I-I…I don’t know. After the funeral, everything was blurry. I just…I didn’t know what I was supposed to do.’

‘You could have talked to me. We’re brothers, aren’t we?’ 

Alexandre nodded. Jean felt ready to hit himself. After Mr. and Mrs. Demay had died, the teenager had struggled to deal with the loss. The small family had been really close and to lose his parents had been a hard blow for Alexandre. Jean had been so caught up in his work, and Alexa’s miscarriage, that he had forgotten to check on his little brother. Now, he was paying the price for that mistake. 

‘Alex, how about you come live with Alexa and me until you’ve finished high-school? So we can make sure you get your life back on track.’

Finally Alexandre met his eyes. Surprise was clear in them. 

‘Really?’ 

‘Yeah, really.’ 

Alexandre leaned forward and hugged Jean, something the older man happily returned. 

‘Just promise me one thing, little brother. No more drugs.’ 

‘I promise, big brother.’ 

*****

Jean smiled proudly as he stood next to Alexandre, waiting for the bride to walk down the aisle. Today, his little brother was getting married and he couldn’t be more proud. After graduating from high-school, Alexandre had gone to the police academy, with the ambition to become as good a cop as his older brother. He had graduated top of his class and then joined the same police force as Jean. 

Then, when he went on a trip to New Orleans, he met Marie Dinan. She was from France and was visiting family in the US. According to Alexandre, it had been love at first sight. While Marie spoke English quite well, most of the conversations between her and Alexandre were in French. Jean supposed it was a good thing that his little brother had been raised bilingual. 

After dating for 1,5 years, Alexandre had gotten down on one knee and proposed. Marie had been very happy to say yes and now here they were, about to get married. As stated before, Jean couldn’t have been more proud. He smiled to Alexa, who was standing opposite of him. She and Marie had become best friends and Alexa was the maid of honour, while Jean was best man. 

When Marie came walking down the aisle, holding her father’s arm, Alexandre practically started glowing. Jean had to admit, Marie was a beautiful woman. Not as beautiful as his Alexa of course, nothing could top her, but Alexandre’s bride came close. Brown curls tied up in a bun and green eyes sparkling with love and excitement. Her white dress was simple, which displayed her beauty even more and in her hands, she held a bouquet of white lilies. The woman was altogether beautiful. 

When Alexandre was told he could kiss the bride, he did so passionately. Later on, it was Jean’s turn to give a speech to the married couple. He climbed on the podium and raised his glass. 

‘I’ve known Alexandre for 22 years now. I have seen him at his lowest and at his highest. I’ve seen him happy and I’ve seen him sad. But never have I seen him so happy as today. And I’m sure everyone here agrees with me that we have to thank Marie for that. Having been married for 8 years and still counting, I would like to give some advice to the newly-weds. Love does not always have to be shown in big ways. You can show in even the smallest gesture that you love someone. Remember that. Now, a toast to Alexandre and Marie. I hope you have a long and happy life together.’ 

*****

‘Captain!’ 

Jean looked up as Alexandre stormed into his office, eyes wild and excited. He seemed to blur with energy and smile was threatening to split his face apart. Jean motioned for the younger man to sit down, which the latter reluctantly did. His knee was jiggling and Jean sighed. 

‘How much coffee did you drink?’ 

‘Nothing. I didn’t drink coffee.’ 

‘Then why are you acting like a child on Christmas?’ 

‘I’ve got news. Marie told me yesterday. She’s pregnant!’

Jean’s eyes widened. 

‘She is? Marie is pregnant?’ 

‘Uh-huh. I’m gonna be a father!’ 

Jean stood up and walked around the desk, embracing his little brother. 

‘Congratulations!’ 

‘Thanks. And I wanted to ask you something. I know it’s still 9 months away, but I can’t wait that long. We want you to be our child’s godfather.’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah, I’m serious. I’ve seen you interact with Aramis, I know you would be a great godfather. And there’s no one in this world who I’d trust more with the care of my child. So, will you be our child’s godfather?’ 

‘Of course! I’m honoured. And I’m so proud of you, brother.’ 

‘I’m so excited. I hope it will be a son, I’d like a boy. I’ll introduce him to baseball and when he turns 18, I’m going to buy him his first car. Probably a Chevrolet Camaro 1969, like the one you got me.’

Jean laughed. 

‘Calm down, Alex. You’re getting ahead of yourself. Besides, what if it’s a girl?’ 

‘Nah, I just know it will be a boy. Trust me, a father always knows.’ 

*****

Alexandre’s laugh still ringed in Treville’s ears. Oh, how he missed his brother. Sure, there had been an age difference of 10 years but it had never bothered them. They always got along just fine. If anything, it made their relationship work even better. Treville finally had the little brother he’d always wanted and Alexandre had someone to look out for him. 

‘Dad?’

The voice pulled Treville out of his thoughts. A hand was on his arm and when he looked up, d’Artagnan’s eyes met him. 

‘Dad, are you okay?’

The brown eyes were filled with worry and suddenly Treville was reminded very strongly of Alexandre. The emotional hurt he felt nearly knocked him out. His brother had been so happy when he learned he was going to be a father. D’Artagnan should’ve been calling Alexandre ‘dad’, not him. He was not the boy’s father. 

It was cruel really. Alexandre had been so excited, had everything planned out for his child’s life. Had been looking forward to doing all kinds of stuff with his son. And then, after having spent barely three years with his son, Alexandre died. Instead of him, Treville was getting to experience d’Artagnan growing up. 

He felt tears burn behind his eyes and he stood up abruptly. But before he could walk away, d’Artagnan stopped him. 

‘Dad, talk to me. What’s wrong, do I need to get Aramis?’

Treville sighed. He would never cry on his sons’ shoulders, but he knew d’Artagnan deserved to know. Treville sat down on the floor and pulled his youngest close, wrapping an arm around the boy’s shoulder. 

‘I just remembered your father. You’re looking more like him every day.’

‘I am?’ d’Artagnan sounded surprised but happy. 

‘Yes, you are. It’s just that, I can still remember the day when Alexandre told me he was going to be a father. He had made all of these plans already and I just realised that instead of him, I’m the one who gets to see you grow up. And while I love you, I can’t help but think that Alexandre’s the one you should be calling ‘dad’.’

D’Artagnan bit his lip and snuggled closer to his dad. Then, rather suddenly, he wrapped his arms around Treville and gave him a big hug. 

‘I will always love my papa, but you’re my dad. And nothing will ever change that. Besides, I think papa doesn’t mind. He said you would take care of me if something happened to him and mamma. I love   
you and I wouldn’t want anyone else being my dad.’

Treville smiled and hugged d’Artagnan back. At that moment, he knew his little brother wasn’t truly gone. He still lived, through d’Artagnan. Because of that, he would always have Alexandre with him. And he would raise Alexandre’s son the best he could, for he knew his brother would’ve done the same for him.


	25. Let it snow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was based on a prompt about Athos getting hurt. I'm still not entirely sure whether I'm happy with it or not.

In hindsight, it was probably not the smartest thing they had ever done. They could’ve easily avoided the accident, if they had just been careful. But no, they had not and now Athos was paying for it. If you asked him, it was all Aramis’ fault. He just had to tempt fate by saying the famous sentence: “What could possibly go wrong?” Wasn’t there some law that said: Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong? 

It had all started relatively innocent. It was winter break and Athos had come home to spend the holidays with his family. To the great delight of all four brothers, it had started snowing only minutes after Athos had arrived. The next morning, there was enough snow for them to play in. And yes, 20-year olds can play in the snow with their younger brothers. 

Aramis announced a snowball fight and said they should do it in teams. He then immediately claimed that he was teaming up with d’Artagnan, because oldest vs youngest was always fun. Both teams had 10 minutes to build a fort and then the war would start. They had great fun and the older brothers had noticed once again that Aramis had a unnervingly good aim. He very rarely missed. After having been hit by the umpteenth snowball, Porthos had bowled into Aramis, taking both of them down and shoving his brother’s face into the snow. D’Artagnan eyed his wrestling brothers, clearly contemplating if he should help Aramis or not. 

‘You know, if you help him,’ Athos warned. ‘Then I’ll have to join as well to help Porthos.’ 

That was all the encouragement the 10-year old needed and soon, the snowball fight had turned into an all-out wrestling match. This lasted a good twenty minutes before they agreed to a truce. By then, all four boys were completely covered in snow. D’Artagnan shivered and Porthos produced a beanie from his pocket, which he placed on d’Art’s head. He was rewarded with a beaming smile. 

‘So, what do we wanna do now?’ Aramis asked, while rubbing his arms vigorously. 

Porthos looked around a bit and his eyes fell on something sticking out of the snow. He walked over and pulled it out, laughing when he recognized it. He turned back to his brothers and held it up. 

‘Recognize this?’

Athos smiled. 

‘Of course I do. That’s your old skateboard. We took the wheels off at some point. I can’t remember why though.’

‘I do!’ Aramis said excitedly. ‘Some punk challenged Porthos to a snowboarding contest. He accepted before he realised none of us had a snowboard. So we turned his skateboard into one.’

‘Did you win?’ d’Artagnan asked. 

Porthos immediately answered in the positive, but Athos felt something pricking in the back of his mind. He wasn’t sure if Porthos had actually won that match. Before he could voice his thoughts, though, Aramis was herding them all towards the hill at the end of the street. 

‘We can take turns. It’ll be fun.’

Athos was ready to argue with that when he looked down the very steep hill. It certainly didn’t look very safe and something in him was shouting that there was a reason they hadn’t done it in years. He looked back at his brothers, who were arguing about who was allowed to go first. 

‘It’s my board,’ Porthos said. ‘So I should go first.’

‘Yeah, but we already know you’re good at it. So I’m gonna go first.’ Aramis argued. 

‘Youngest first!’ d’Artagnan stated. 

At this point, Athos intervened. 

‘d’Artagnan, no way in hell are you going down that hill with the board. I can go grab the sled if you want. Porthos, Aramis, if you really want to do this, at least wear a helmet.’

D’Artagnan pouted and kicked the snow sullenly. Porthos and Aramis agreed to Athos’ condition and ran back to the house to grab a helmet. When they returned, they also had the sled with them, which they gave to d’Artagnan. The boy pulled it to the side and sat on it, a big scowl on his face. 

Porthos put the helmet on his head and took his board from Athos. Placing his board on the edge, he made the mistake of looking down. The hill seemed really steep all of a sudden. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. But when Porthos looked over his shoulder, he caught Aramis gaze. He was staring at him with his eyebrows raised, his eyes clearly asking: scared? That was enough to convince Porthos and he placed his feet on the board. When he kicked off, he went downhill with a terrifying speed. Before he knew it, he was at the bottom. Luckily, he was able to make the board stop and he quickly trudged back up the hill. 

Aramis went next and he enjoyed the rush of adrenaline. It was quite different from the snowboarding they did on vacations, but it was fun. When he looked up, he saw that d’Artagnan seemed really disappointed about not being allowed to try out the board. Suddenly, he was hit with an amazing idea. 

*****

‘Come on, Athos! What could possibly go wrong?’

‘Don’t get me started on it. There are seriously a million ways this could go wrong.’

‘But we did the same thing when we went surfing three years ago!’

‘Yes, but the surfboard was actually big enough to fit two people. This is a freaking skateboard without wheels!’

‘Why are you so against the idea? The pup will be absolutely safe with you.’

Athos sighed and turned away from Aramis, only to find d’Artagnan staring hopefully at him. His brown eyes were shining and pleading with him to say yes. Athos felt torn. On one hand, he didn’t want to disappoint his youngest brother. But on the other hand, he didn’t want the boy to get hurt either. Athos looked down the hill again. Aramis had dragged them all to a different hill that wasn’t as steep. In the worst case scenario, they would hit a snow bank. Finally, he caved. 

‘Alright, I’ll do it! Porthos, give me your helmet.’

D’Artagnan cheered and hugged Athos, before running towards the board. Athos secured d’Artagnan’s helmet and placed one foot on the board. D’Artagnan placed himself on the front of the board and looked back at Athos excitedly. The oldest brother was ready to reconsider his life-choices that had lead him to this point in life. But the look in his youngest brother’s eyes made him put his worries to the side-line. 

Athos made sure d’Artagnan was prepared and then kicked off. The first few seconds consisted out of balancing the board for both of them. It nearly made them fall over but luckily they managed. Even though this hill wasn’t as steep as the other one, they still went downhill with a terrifying speed. Still, it didn’t feel like the board was out of control. But just as Athos dared to feel relieved, he saw a bump in the road. A literal bump that would send them flying if they took it. 

‘d’Artagnan, lean to the right!’

The boy did so without questioning and Athos did the same. They managed to steer clear of the bump, but then they hit another one that was even bigger. How Athos hadn’t managed to see it was a mystery to him, but the fact was that he hadn’t. They hit the bump and suddenly, both brothers were airborne. Instincts kicked in and Athos wrapped himself around d’Artagnan to ensure the boy wouldn’t land too badly. The moment Athos hit the ground, white-hot pain flared up in his leg and then everything went black. 

*****

‘You know,’ Porthos said as he and Aramis watched their brothers. ‘I suddenly remembered something. I didn’t actually win that match. If I remember correctly, I fell and broke my wrist. After that, dad told us we were never allowed to use the board for snowboarding again.’

Aramis hummed in agreement. 

‘Oh well, so far so good right? Besides, this hill isn’t as steep as the other one, they should be fine.’

Just as he said that, they heard Athos shout something and the next moment, they watched their brothers become airborne. Porthos and Aramis looked each other for one second and then scrambled to get to their brothers. They were halfway when they heard a terrible snapping sound. They ran even faster and skidded to a halt when they had reached their brothers. 

D’Artagnan was on his knees, softly shaking Athos who seemed to be unconscious. Athos’ face was as white as the snow he was laying on and his left leg was bent in an unnatural position. It made all three of them feel sick. Aramis immediately checked if Athos was breathing and his heartbeat. When he established nothing was wrong there, he tried to rouse Athos. 

‘Come on, ‘Thos, wake up. There are way more comfortable places to take a nap then here.’

They all sighed in relief when Athos groaned and opened his eyes. He immediately closed them again when the pain in his leg registered. Aramis tapped lightly against Athos face. 

‘Open those eyes for me. I need to check if you have a concussion.’

Athos complied and Aramis studied his eyes carefully. The pupils reacted evenly to the light, so that was good. 

‘Okay, big brother. What day is it?’

‘Thursday,’ Athos mumbled. 

‘Very good. Where are we?’

‘On the stupid hill to snowboard.’

‘Good, doesn’t sound like you have a concussion. D’Artagnan, go get dad, I don’t want to move Athos if I don’t have to.’

D’Artagnan took off at an incredible speed. Aramis took off his jacket and folded it, before placing it under Athos’ head. He smiled cheerfully at his oldest brother. 

‘It’s a good thing you had a helmet. Imagine what could have happened if you hadn’t.’

*****

Yep, Athos was definitely paying for it. He was in a wheelchair that his dad was pushing, his left leg in a white cast. His younger brothers were unusually quiet, probably a result from the fact that one of their stunts had ended up with one of them seriously injured. Their dad seemed to be angry, but didn’t say anything until they had arrived home and Athos was placed on his bed. 

‘Get some rest,’ Treville said. ‘I’ll wake you for dinner.’

Treville was positively fuming. Porthos, Aramis and d’Artagnan were standing before him in the living room, their heads bowed. For once, not even Aramis was trying to talk his way out of it. Treville paced, trying to calm down a little before he would lecture his sons. He did not want his anger clouding his judgement. 

‘What in God’s name where you thinking?!’ Treville shouted. ‘Wait, don’t answer that, you weren’t thinking. You were being reckless and now Athos can’t walk for at least 10 weeks! Was I not clear enough the last time? I strictly forbade you to ever do it again but you didn’t listen. Well, what do you have to say for yourselves?’

‘We’re really sorry, dad,’ Porthos said. 

‘We didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt,’ Aramis added. 

D’Artagnan just looked at his dad with tears in his eyes. Treville sighed. He knew the apologies were genuine, but he also knew a punishment was needed here. The boys had pulled countless of reckless stunts over the years, but this one topped the cake. What made it worse was that it was a repeated offense. They had done it once before, when d’Artagnan wasn’t living with them yet. It had ended with Porthos breaking his wrist and Treville had punished them then too. 

Calmed down significantly by the fact that his sons were genuinely sorry, Treville sighed again. 

‘Okay, here’s the deal. I am upset with you but I know you’re sorry. As punishment, you three will do all the chores in the house for one month and you are grounded for 3 months. Am I clear?’

‘Don’t punish the pup! Punish me more instead of punishing him, I should’ve intervened!’ Porthos exclaimed. 

‘It was my idea. I’m the only one who should be punished,’ Aramis argued. 

‘No, I should be punished. It was my fault too,’ d’Artagnan said. 

Once again, Treville was astounded by how much his boys looked out for his each other. All three of them were trying to take the blame and it made him extremely proud of his sons. However, he could not show it right now. 

‘Boys, I agree with d’Artagnan. The punishment is for all three of you and that’s it. No more arguing. Now go set the table, I’m going to get some painkillers for Athos.’

*****

Treville waited until the pain in Athos’ leg wasn’t bothering him too much before he talked with his oldest. Athos was sitting on his bed, his back leaning against the headboard and his left leg propped up on some pillows. By the look in his eyes, it was clear that Athos was expecting the lecture. 

‘Athos, I’m really disappointed in you. I expected more from you. I assume I don’t have to tell you how much worse this could’ve ended? What if your brothers had gotten hurt too?’

‘I’m so sorry, dad. I should never have allowed them to do it.’

‘You’re right, you shouldn’t have. What I really don’t understand though, is why you thought it would be a good idea to take d’Artagnan on the board with you.’

‘It was my idea. I thought I could handle it, but I was overconfident.’

Treville couldn’t help but chuckle at that. Athos looked up at him surprised. 

‘It’s funny you should say that. ‘Cause I have already heard three different versions of this part of the story and they all say someone else is to blame. All three of your brothers claimed it was their idea and they convinced you to do it. D’Artagnan even went so far as to say that he threatened to go by himself if you didn’t go with him.’

Athos smiled. 

‘Since I will never find out who’s version is the truth and you’re all set on taking the blame, I will punish all four of you. Although, I think you’re already being severely punished for it. Promise me one thing, though,’ Treville’s voice became softer. ‘Don’t ever do this again.’

‘I promise dad. Next time, I’ll just burn the damn board.’

*****

Why they hadn’t noticed it sooner, Athos didn’t know. Perhaps the boy was just really good at hiding things. Or maybe it was because the boy had been withdrawing himself a lot. It didn’t matter though. The important fact was that they discovered it way too late. 

It had been two days since Athos broke his leg. Treville had helped him get downstairs and parked him at the couch, telling him to stay there. Porthos had entered the living room soon after, carrying a laundry basket and together they started folding the laundry. 

They were halfway when Aramis came home, carrying three bags with groceries. He placed them on the floor before hanging his coat away and greeting his brothers. Aramis then proceeded to plop down on the ground and groan tiredly. 

‘I hate doing groceries. Those bags are really heavy and there was this old lady in front of me at the register and she took ages! Seriously, I thought I would still be standing in that line when Christmas rolled around.’

‘If I were you,’ Porthos said. ‘I would get those bags to the kitchen. If dad trips over them, he’ll gut you like a fish.’

‘Don’t I know it,’ Aramis groaned. 

He heaved himself up and called out to d’Artagnan, who was just coming downstairs, to help him with the groceries. Aramis took two of the bags, leaving the last one to d’Artagnan. Athos frowned at the way their youngest brother was moving towards the bag. The boy kept his left arm out of sight the entire time. 

The moment d’Artagnan lifted the bag, he cried out in pain and dropped it. The groceries rolled over the floor, but nobody cared about them. Porthos and Aramis sprinted towards the hallway, while Athos cursed his leg. Aramis and Porthos reached their youngest brother at the same time. D’Artagnan was sobbing and clutching his left arm. Porthos immediately carried the boy to the living room and placed him on the couch opposite of Athos. 

Aramis kneeled by the couch and gently took d’Artagnan’s arm to examine it. All three of them gasped. D’Artagnan’s left wrist was badly swollen and bruised. When Aramis very softly touched it, d’Artagnan cried out again and snatched his wrist back. 

Treville suddenly stormed into the room and skidded to a halt by d’Artagnan’s side. He took one glance at his son’s wrist and turned to get an ice-pack, only to find Porthos already offering him one. Treville grabbed it and held it against d’Artagnan’s wrist. The boy started crying and tried to pull his wrist away, but Treville held it in place. Aramis tried to comfort the boy. 

‘I know it hurts, pup, but it will get better soon. The ice will help with the pain.’

‘No!’ d’Artagnan sobbed. ‘Don’t want it to go away. I deserve it!’

Before anyone could respond to that, Treville picked d’Artagnan up, making sure to keep the ice-pack against his son’s wrist. 

‘Aramis, you’re coming with me. I want you to keep icing d’Artagnan’s wrist while I drive. Athos, Porthos, if we’re not back by six, order something. I’ll pay you back.’

*****

Athos and Porthos ended up ordering something, seeing as their dad and brothers hadn’t returned when it was six o’ clock. They had decided to order Chinese and the deliverance man had just left when the others returned. 

Their dad looked angry and d’Artagnan looked like he had been crying. Aramis silently moved to the kitchen to help Porthos set the table. Athos wished he was able to walk, when it looked like he was getting a front row seat to d’Artagnan arguing with their dad. 

‘d’Artagnan Charles Treville, I have never been so angry with you before. Not only did you purposefully hide a serious injury from me, but you also hit me. I do not tolerate such behaviour and you know that. Do you have anything to say for yourself?’

D’Artagnan mumbled something unintelligible. 

‘I didn’t hear you. Care to repeat that?’

D’Artagnan looked up, his eyes shining with tears and anger. 

‘It’s none of your business, jerk!’

Before Treville could stop him, d’Artagnan ran upstairs. Athos was absolutely flabbergasted and judging by his facial expression, so was his dad. Never before had d’Artagnan dared to be rude to their father. It was so very un-d’Artagnan like that neither man doubted there was something else going on with their youngest. 

Porthos and Aramis, who had heard everything from the kitchen, immediately went after their brother. They found d’Artagnan on his bed, crying his heart out. Porthos stared at the cast on the boy’s arm, but Aramis shook his head, signalling he would explain later. They sat down on either side of d’Artagnan. 

‘Hey now,’ Porthos said soothingly. ‘What’s gotten you so sad?’

‘D-don’t wanna t-talk about it,’ d’Artagnan sobbed. ‘Leave m-me alone.’

‘You know we can’t do that,’ Aramis said. ‘Not until you tell us what’s going on. Come on, why did you shout at dad?’

D’Artagnan lifted his head from his pillow and looked at them with red-rimmed eyes. Tears were still streaming down his face and his bottom lip was quivering. All in all, he rather looked like a kicked puppy. 

‘I didn’t m-mean to. H-he just d-doesn’t understand.’

‘Doesn’t understand what?’ Porthos asked. 

D’Artagnan looked down at his cast before returning his brother’s gaze. His wrist was still hurting, since he had thrown away the painkillers the doctor gave him when she wasn’t looking. He took a deep breath, to make himself stop crying. D’Artagnan felt glad when his brothers didn’t press for answers, just waited for him to find the words. 

‘I don’t deserve to get help. I deserve punishment.’

Porthos frowned. 

‘Who have you been talking to this time?’

‘No one.’

‘Then why do you think you deserve punishment?’ Aramis asked. 

D’Artagnan bit on his lip and looked away. Tears started shining in his eyes again. Porthos and Aramis immediately moved to give him a hug but to their surprise, d’Artagnan backed away. 

‘Why aren’t you mad at me? You should be mad at me!’

‘There isn’t any reason for us to be mad at you. Why should we be?’

‘Because it’s my fault Athos got hurt! He got on the board of me and he broke his leg when he protected me. It’s all my fault!’

D’Artagnan hiccupped and the tears started streaming again. Aramis sighed and placed his hand on d’Artagnan’s shoulder. 

‘It’s not your fault, d’Art. It was my idea and I got your hopes up. I should’ve known it wasn’t safe.’

‘Just like I should have intervened when I saw Athos had his doubts,’ Porthos said. ‘But I decided not to and look how that ended. D’Artagnan, you’re not solely to blame.’ 

Before d’Artagnan could say anything, another voice piped up from the doorway. 

‘He’s right, little brother. I could have said no but I didn’t.’

Three gazes swerved towards the open door, where Athos was standing on his good leg, supported by their father. After hobbling towards the bed, he gingerly sat down and grabbed d’Artagnan’s good arm. 

‘Look, me breaking my leg is not your fault. I just landed wrong. So stop feeling guilty. I don’t blame you and neither do Porthos and Aramis. But, I am mad about the fact that you didn’t tell us you hurt your wrist. I don’t care if it was because you believed you deserved more punishment, you don’t do that. You understand me?’

D’Artagnan nodded and then looked fearfully towards his dad. 

‘I’m really sorry, dad, for everything.’

Treville kept a blank mask for about two seconds, but then he smiled. 

‘Just promise me you will never do something like that again. I’m the one who decides on punishments, understood?’

‘I promise, dad.’

Treville opened his arms and d’Artagnan jumped into them. When they turned it into a family hug, Aramis, who was sitting the farthest away, scrambled to join them. In his haste, he knocked Athos’ left leg clean of the bed. A groan of pain, followed by a beat of silence and then: 

‘ARAMIS!’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you didn't know, yes, it is possible to use a skateboard the way it was used here. I did it as a kid and it did not end well. So, don't try this at home, kids :).


	26. When Christmas comes to town

‘Last Christmas, I gave you my heart. But the very next day, you gave it away.’

‘Aramis, I swear to God, if you sing that song one more time, I will kill you!’ Athos shouted. 

Aramis entered the living room with a pout and handed Athos a cup of hot chocolate. 

‘You’re grumpy. Lighten up a little, tonight is Christmas Eve.’

‘Well, considering you’re partly to blame for the fact that I still can’t walk, I have the right to be grumpy. Besides, you’ve been singing that song all week. At some point, it starts to get annoying.’

‘Tell me about it,’ Porthos piped up from the doorway. ‘Last night, I had this dream where I won a football game and suddenly Aramis grabbed the mic and started singing Last Christmas.’

Aramis frowned. 

‘I thought you had a nightmare? You woke up screaming.’

‘Exactly. Because of you and your horrible singing.’

Aramis made an indignant sound, which made Athos laugh. Porthos smiled and moved to sit beside Aramis on the couch opposite of Athos. It hadn’t been too long since Athos had broken his leg, not even a week, but he was more than done with the cast already. It annoyed him to no end that he couldn’t walk anywhere. Or at least, not without crutches. While Athos wasn’t as fidgety as Aramis, even he couldn’t stand to be cooped up. 

‘Anyone up to watching the Polar Express?’

Athos sighed. 

‘You know that d’Artagnan will kill us if we watch it without him. Besides, we agreed to watch Christmas movies tonight, with the family.’

‘Fine. Then what else can we do? I’m bored!’

‘You can help me carry the groceries,’ Treville announced from the hallway. 

‘I don’t want to.’

‘Tough luck. D’Artagnan can’t carry them, so I need you to help. Now move.’

*****

Aramis hummed happily as he straightened his tie. Tonight, they were going to church. Usually, Aramis went by himself but on Christmas Eve, the entire family went, even Porthos. Not because they all believed in God, but because it was important to Aramis. He could still remember going to church with his papá, it was their Christmas tradition. After losing his papá, Aramis continued the tradition and it made him feel like the man was still with him. 

Athos thanked his lucky stars that it was finally time to go to church. Aramis had been so excited all day that he was almost unbearable to be around. And to make matters worse, the teenager had managed to rile up d’Artagnan as well, thus doubling the amount of bounciness in the house. 

Speaking of d’Artagnan, the 10-year old walked into the room, grumbling about something and throwing his tie on the bed. He then dramatically let himself fall backwards on the bed. 

‘What’s the matter?’

‘Do I have to wear a tie? It tried to kill me!’

Athos laughed. 

‘Yes, you do. Come here, I’ll help you.’

As Athos helped him with his tie, d’Artagnan looked at him with curious eyes. 

‘Do you believe in God?’

‘I don’t know. I like to think there’s something of a higher power, but other times, I don’t know if I want to believe that there is. You?’

‘I believe in God. And in heaven because that’s where my papa and mamma are. They get to celebrate Christmas with God himself. But I’m not jealous.’

‘No? Why not?’

‘Because I’m spending it with my family and there’s nothing better than that.’

*****

As they drove home, Porthos looked at Aramis. The teenager was always uncharacteristically quiet after having been to church. Not in a bad way, mind you. Religion was just important to Aramis and he respected God and Church by being quiet during a mass. It also made the 16-year old feel closer to his papá. 

Porthos looked out of the window and enjoyed the sight that greeted him. It was after midnight and the stars twinkled in the sky. He smiled as he remembered watching the stars with his mother. It was their Christmas tradition. They would go to the roof of the rundown flat they lived in and watch the sky. He would point out a star and his mom would make up a story about it. And when he got tired, she would rock him and sing Christmas songs. His favourite had always been All I want for Christmas because it always made him feel like he was his mother’s greatest present. 

When they arrived home, Aramis immediately moved to help Athos out of the car, while Porthos carried a sleeping d’Artagnan into the house. Inside, Treville turned towards Aramis. 

‘I’m warning you now, I do not want you to wake me up before nine am. Do you understand me?’

‘Perfectly, dad,’ Aramis answered with a small smile. ‘I promise I will not wake you up before nine o’ clock.’

*****

Treville woke up with a start when he felt his bed bouncing. Opening his eyes, he saw d’Artagnan jumping on his bed in various patterns. The boy’s eyes were shining with excitement and his hair went up and down with every jump. Treville looked to the clock on his nightstand and groaned inwardly. It was 8:15 am!

‘Merry Christmas, dad! Come on, it’s time for presents!’

Treville snatched d’Artagnan out of the air when the boy made another jump and placed the boy besides him. 

‘Did Aramis put you up to this?’

D’Artagnan cocked his head. 

‘What do you mean? He woke me up and said that if I would wake you up, he would get Athos and Porthos. But are you coming now? There are presents for you too!’

Treville sighed but got up. He supposed it could’ve been worse. At least it wasn’t 4 am, like Aramis had done on his first Christmas with Treville. D’Artagnan grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the hallway, talking a mile per minute. 

Downstairs they found the others already there. Treville raised his eyebrows quizzically when he saw Athos without his crutches. 

‘Don’t even ask. I hate not being able to walk.’

Treville shrugged and sat down next to his eldest. Aramis placed mugs filled with hot chocolate in front them. While three of them only had some marshmallows as addition, two where decorated with not only marshmallows, but also huge amounts of whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles. Those belonged to Aramis and d’Artagnan. 

‘Is it wise to allow them that much sugar?’ Porthos whispered to Athos. 

‘I don’t know but there’s nothing we can do about it. They’ll throw a fit if we don’t let them drink it.’

They started with the presents for Treville. The boys had put their money together to find the best presents for their father. In the end, Treville had gotten two new movies, a CD from Bon Jovi and a new pair of running shoes. Athos said it hadn’t been easy to find things, since Treville hadn’t made a wish list. He thanked his sons excessively for finding presents anyways. 

Next were the presents for Aramis, who simply couldn’t wait any longer. If Treville thought his sons went all out on Brother’s Day, it was nothing compared to Christmas. How the boys could afford it all was a mystery to Treville. Well, except for d’Artagnan, since Treville financed there. The boy was too young for a job and his allowance wasn’t that much. From Athos, Aramis got some comic books and a new set of headphones, since he had broken his old ones. Porthos had gotten him a soccer ball and a few books on first-aid. The presents he got from d’Artagnan consisted of a rosary and a game for his Nintendo. From his dad, he got The King of Clonmel by John Flanagan, the movie The A-team and a poster of his favourite soccer team. 

Then came the time for Porthos’ presents. From Athos, a leather jacket and an album from Metallica. Aramis had bought him a black iPod. D’Artagnan had gotten him a poster of his favourite football team and a comic book. And from his dad, he got a new lacrosse stick, the computer game Civilization Revolution and a snowboard (telling him that he could throw out his old skateboard now). 

D’Artagnan was bouncing when it was time for his presents. Athos had gotten him a new baseball glove and The Jungle Book from Rudyard Kipling. From Porthos he got a Playmobile Knights castle (Treville had sponsored a bit there). Aramis gave him a replica of the amulet from Pirates of the Caribbean as well as poster from the first movie. From his dad, he got The Fellowship of the Ring from J.R.R. Tolkien (d’Artagnan immediately declared that Athos had to read it to him) and a new winter coat. 

Lastly, it was Athos’ turn. Porthos had bought him a book on Greek and Roman myths. Aramis had managed to get him the comics of l’épervier, which was pretty impressive. D’Artagnan had gotten him Voyages extraordinaires from Jules Verne (Athos suggested they could read it together). From his dad, he got the movies The Bourne Identity, The Bourne Supremacy, The Bourne Ultimatum and The Fast and the Furious. 

*****

Dinner was loud and cheerful. The turkey was quickly devoured and when Aramis started singing Last Christmas again, peas were thrown at him. After dinner, the family settled down in the living room with dessert and snacks. 

They had watched two movies and Porthos and Aramis were discussing which movie would be the third one, when they were suddenly interrupted by a soft voice singing:

‘Silent Night, Holy Night. All is calm. All is bright. Round yon virgin, mother and child. Holy infant so tender and mild. Sleep in heavenly peace. Sleep in heavenly peace.’

All gazes turned towards d’Artagnan, who was leaning against Athos and slowly drifting off to sleep. Athos smiled softly and carded a hand through the boy’s hair. Aramis quickly sat down on d’Artagnan’s other side and continued the song. 

‘Silent Night, Holy Night. Shepherds quake at the sight. Glory streams from heaven afar. Heavenly host sing Hallelujah. Christ the saviour is born. Christ the saviour is born.’

Athos, Porthos and Treville, while not very fond of singing, joined in for the final part of the song. The entire family had perched themselves on one couch, the fire blazing in the fireplace and the lights of the Christmas tree added to the Christmas spirit. 

‘Silent Night, Holy Night. Son of God, love’s pure light. Radiant beams from Thy holy face. With the dawn of redeeming grace. Jesus, Lord at Thy birth. Jesus, Lord at Thy birth.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I didn't offend anyone with the religious stuff in this chapter. I'm a Catholic myself and it is a tradition of my mother and me to go to church on Christmas Eve. As for Athos' view on God, I got that from one of my friends. I think that with all the things Athos and his brothers went through, the idea of God appeal on one hand and yet on the other, it wouldn't.


	27. You saved my life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ages: Aramis is 18 and d'Artagnan is 12.

Aramis sighed as he watched Ryan down yet another shot. In hindsight, maybe he shouldn’t have come to this party. But here he was, because his friend had convinced him it would be fun. One of his classmates, Tammy, had organised this party after the school’s football team had won the first game of the season. 

He had been to parties like this before, usually with Porthos and Charon. But then, Aramis had never noticed any hard liquor being drunk. Or maybe it had been there, but Porthos had just not allowed him more than one bottle of beer. Now though, Porthos was at college with a football scholarship and Aramis was at the party with his friend Ryan. 

Originally, Aramis hadn’t wanted to come to the party. But he had gotten in a big fight with his girlfriend yesterday, after he had caught her kissing someone else. Ryan had suggested to go to Tammy’s party, so he could forget his ex for a few hours. So far, it wasn’t really working. He didn’t feel like drinking and was still nursing his first beer. Besides, he had to make sure that Ryan and he got home safely. 

Speaking of going home, a glance at his watch told Aramis that it was 1 am. His curfew was 1:30, so if he didn’t go home now, he was screwed. Looking around, he saw Ryan had moved on from shots to just drinking bottles of tequila. Right, definitely time to take his friend home. He grabbed their jackets and made his way over to Ryan. 

‘Come on, time to go.’

‘Aramis!’ Ryan exclaimed cheerfully. ‘Drink something! You’ll like this, it’s tequila.’

‘Yeah, not now, Ryan. We need to go home.’

‘Awww, but I’m having fun! Just one more bottle.’ 

‘No, you’ve had enough. Come on, it’s bedtime for you.’ 

Ryan pouted but allowed Aramis to wrestle him into his jacket and push him out the door. They had barely crossed the street when rain crashed down on them and a strong wind started blowing. Aramis groaned and grabbed hold of Ryan’s arm to keep him upright and in case they guy decided to run off. 

Which was exactly what he did when they walked through the park. Aramis ran after him and his heart stopped when he heard a big splash. He sprinted to the lake and narrowed his eyes, trying to see through the darkness. Finally, he spotted Ryan flailing around before going under. Without thinking, Aramis shrugged out of his jacket and dove into the lake. 

The water was freezing (it was unreasonably cold for the fall) and he gasped for breath. As soon as he broke the surface, rain crashed down on him, making it even colder and hard to see anything. Taking a deep breath, Aramis started swimming to where he had last seen Ryan go under. Just as he got there, his friend came up again, still flailing around. Aramis grabbed his hand and tried to pull him up further, but because of Ryan’s panicky movements, they both went under. Aramis felt the cold starting to affect him and he knew they had to get out of the water soon. He wrapped his arms around Ryan’s middle and as soon as he feet hit the bottom, he kicked off. 

When they reached the surface, Aramis immediately started swimming towards the shore. Ryan had stopped moving and he hoped beyond hope that he hadn’t been too late. Aramis pushed his friend onto the shore first, before climbing on himself. His body was trembling, but he ignored it. He needed to help his friend first. 

It was still raining and dark, so it was hard to see anything. Aramis crawled to Ryan and immediately started checking the teenager’s pulse. He breathed a sigh of relief when he found a strong one. Breathing was okay, if slightly irregular, but all-in all his friend seemed alright. Still, Aramis got Ryan out of his jacket and eased him into his own. 

His body had stopped trembling, Aramis noticed. He vaguely recalled something saying that was never a good sign, but right now, it didn’t really matter. There was something important, that he knew. But he couldn’t remember what it was. Actually, he was feeling oddly detached. The edge of his vision was started to grey, which was really weird. He wasn’t feeling too good either. Maybe he should go to sleep, his body sure felt tired. Yeah, sleeping was probably good. 

*****

Anne Dowling enjoyed being outside. Especially early in the morning, because you could see everything come to life. It was why she didn’t have a problem with taking her dog for a walk early in the morning. Another thing about the early morning, she mused, was that there were very few people outside. She could feel like it was just her and her dog, Louis, in the whole wide world. 

When they got to the park, she unleashed Louis. Anne knew he liked to play in the heaps of fallen leaves and he was very well trained. The moment she’d command him to come back, he would. But for now, she let him run around and enjoyed watching his enthusiasm. He was her best friend and he always helped her feel better about everything. For example, her awful break-up with Marc a few weeks ago. She really loved him and they had even been planning to get married as soon as they graduated. Yes, they were young, but she had been so sure he was her soulmate. And she knew it would please her father, since Marc came from a very good and wealthy family. But then, she found out how obsessed Marc was with her. Every time she talked with another boy, the person would get beaten up because apparently, only Marc was allowed to be near her. He had scared off all her friends and replaced them with the girlfriends of his own friends. Those girls were mean and they gossiped all the time. 

A sudden bark from Louis interrupted her thoughts. He had found something and not something good, judging by the tone of the dog’s bark. Looking around, Anne determined the sound came from by the lake and she sprinted towards it. When she reached it, she covered her mouth in shock. 

Louis was sitting by a boy who appeared to be around her age and clearly unconscious. She knelt down next to him and noticed he was soaked and his lips were blue. His dark hair was plastered to his head and his skin looked grey. 

Wait, she knew him. He was in most of her AP classes and the class-clown. 

‘Oh, God, Aramis,’ she breathed. 

He clearly needed help. She pulled out her phone and dialled 911, putting it on speaker and placing it next to her. Then she placed her hands on his chest and started the compressions. 

‘Come on, Aramis, you’re going to be okay. Breathe, you’ll be fine. Help will be here soon.’ 

*****

‘Dad, wake up!’ 

Treville groaned when his dreams were interrupted by a voice. So help him God, if that was Aramis complaining about a hang-over, he could figure it out himself. Treville had explicitly told him not to get drunk. 

‘Dad, please! The hospital’s calling!’ A sob followed. ‘Aramis is hurt!’ 

Treville’s eyes flew open and he saw d’Artagnan sitting on his bed, tears streaming down his face and one hand holding out the phone to him. Treville snatched it from him and put it to his ear. 

‘Jean Treville speaking. What happened to my son?’ 

‘Mr. Treville, my name is doctor Evans. Your son, Aramis, has been brought in by the ambulance earlier. We need you here.’ 

‘I’m on my way.’ 

Treville hung up and jumped out of bed. He got dressed in record time and ran downstairs, d’Artagnan hot on his heels. When they reached the car, d’Artagnan handed him the car keys that the boy apparently had already grabbed on their way out. 

They reached the hospital in less than five minutes. After parking the car, they stormed inside and Treville actually collided with the reception desk. The nurse scowled at him. 

‘I’m sorry,’ he panted. ‘My son, Aramis Treville, has been brought in. Doctor Evans said they needed me here.’ 

The nurse’s scowl melted away and she smiled sympathetically at him. Looking at her computer, she typed in some things and looked up again. 

‘Go to the waiting room on the second floor. Doctor Evans will be with you shortly.’ 

In the waiting room, d’Artagnan curled up on a chair and watched his father pace. The doctor hadn’t told him what happened to Aramis, just that he had been hurt and they needed to speak with his dad. He hoped his brother would be alright. 

Eventually, a doctor appeared in the waiting room. She looked around and when she saw Treville pacing, she approached him. 

‘Are you Aramis Treville’s father?’

She held out her hand and Treville quickly shook it. 

‘Jean Treville. How is my son?’ 

‘He is doing better. We were able to treat him in time and with the proper rest, he should be just fine.’ 

‘Thank God,’ Treville breathed. ‘What happened to him?’ 

‘911 was called early in the morning. Someone had found Aramis in the park, soaking wet and unconscious. He wasn’t breathing either so the person who found him performed CPR, probably saving his life with it. When Aramis arrived here, we concluded he had contracted moderate hypothermia. Dangerous, but when treated properly, not life-threatening. Would you like to see your son now?’ 

Treville nodded and he and d’Artagnan followed the doctor.

*****

Wherever he was, it was stifling hot. That was the first thing Aramis noticed. The second thing was that he was clearly not at Tammy’s party anymore. Judging by the beeping on his right, he was probably in a hospital. Huh, that meant something had gone very wrong in the process of getting himself and Ryan home. 

‘Aramis?’

He knew that voice. It sounded like d’Artagnan. Aramis frowned. Wasn’t d’Artagnan supposed to be home? Oh wait, if he was in the hospital, chances were his family had been informed. Let’s hope he wasn’t in the hospital because of alcohol poisoning. His dad would kill him if that was the case. 

Wait, if he had too much to drink, wouldn’t he have a major hangover? Okay, so Aramis probably didn’t have alcohol poisoning. That was a small relief. But then what had happened? He didn’t feel like he had been hit by a truck or something, so he probably hadn’t been runover by a car. 

‘Aramis? Are you awake?’

There was d’Artagnan’s voice again. He sounded worried and scared. Maybe Aramis should open his eyes, if just to reassure his little brother. Besides, he needed to know what happened. D’Artagnan or his dad could tell him. 

Opening his eyes took way more force than it should. It felt like he was forcing himself to do something impossible. Finally though, Aramis managed it, only to immediately regret the action. The light was way too bright in the room and he had the mother of all headaches. He groaned and closed his eyes again. 

‘You’re awake!’ d’Artagnan exclaimed. 

Aramis opened his eyes slightly, just enough to see but not so much that the light would hurt his eyes. Turning his head slightly to the left, he found d’Artagnan staring intently at him. 

‘Pup, I don’t swing that way.’

D’Artagnan breathed a sigh of relief and swatted him on the arm lightly. Aramis smiled weakly at him. His eyes were starting to adjust to the light and he could actually look at his surroundings. Yup, he was right, definitely the hospital. 

‘What happened?’ he asked d’Artagnan. 

‘You tell us. I was woken up by your brother, saying the hospital was calling.’

Aramis looked to the other side and saw his dad sitting down with a cup of coffee in his hand. He looked tired, but relieved. Aramis frowned. 

‘I don’t really remember. It’s all a bit hazy. The last thing I remember was leaving Tammy’s party with Ryan,’ Aramis gasped. ‘Ryan! Is he okay?’

‘We don’t know,’ d’Artagnan said. ‘You were the only person the ambulance brought in. There wasn’t anyone else.’

Flashes of the previous night started returning to Aramis. Suddenly he remembered diving into the water to save his friend. He remembered trying to warm Ryan up after pulling them both out of the lake. Ryan couldn’t have died, the body would have been found. So what had happened to him then?

*****

Treville scowled as he hung up the phone. He walked into the living room, where Aramis and d’Artagnan were lounging on the couch, watching cartoons. It had been two days since Aramis’ trip to the hospital and the teenager was doing a lot better. He still had to stay inside for now, which he hated, but he could go back to school on Thursday. 

Even though the hypothermia hadn’t killed him (thank God for that), it had still left him with a nasty cold. After arriving back home, Aramis had spent most of his time in bed, battling a fever. D’Artagnan had helped Treville out as much as he could, by doing Aramis’ chores as well as his own and even cooking dinner once. Athos and Porthos had Skyped to ensure their brother wasn’t dying anytime soon and to entertain Aramis by telling him about college life. 

Fortunately for Aramis, his fever had gone down significantly last night and this morning, Treville had allowed him to spend some time downstairs. Under the condition he stayed on the couch of course. Treville had just started preparing lunch when the phone rang. 

It turned out to be the father of Ryan, Aramis’ friend. He wanted to inquire about Aramis, after Ryan had remembered what had happened on the night of the party. Treville had nearly exploded with anger when the father told him that a few hours after Aramis had passed out, Ryan had woken up and, in his drunken state, had stumbled home, completely forgetting about his friend. 

Ryan’s father had chewed his son out for being drunk and then helped the teenager through the hangover and cold he had caught with his dunk in the lake. Ryan hadn’t been able to remember anything, until this morning. The father had offered his apologies and promised Ryan would face consequences for his actions. Treville had thanked the man and hung up. 

‘If there’s something wrong with the stove, I swear I didn’t touch it.’

Aramis’ voice pulled Treville out of his angry thoughts. He looked at his sons, who were staring at him with concerned gazes. He sighed and motioned for them to turn off the tv. They did so without question and watched as he sat down on the couch opposite of them. 

‘I just got off the phone with Ryan’s father.’

‘Is he okay?’

Treville thought it spoke well of Aramis that his friend’s welfare was his first concern, even though said friend didn’t deserve it. 

‘Yes. He has a mild cold but aside from that, he is fine.’

‘Then why are you angry?’ 

‘Because Ryan’s father told me what happened. After you managed to save Ryan, you passed out, as you remember. A few hours after that, he woke up and stumbled home. He had completely forgotten about you, until this morning.’

‘He left Aramis to die?!’ d’Artagnan’s voice held more anger than they’d ever heard before. ‘What kind of a friend is he?!’

‘d’Artagnan, calm down. Ryan was really drunk, I don’t think he knew I was there.’

The 12-year old rounded on Aramis. 

‘I almost lost my brother because he was drunk! Dad should lock him up in jail and never let him out!’

Aramis wrapped an arm around d’Artagnan, smiling warmly. 

‘While I’m truly touched by your protectiveness, Ryan is not solely to blame. I decided to go to that party, I could’ve said no. Besides, it’s not as if he planned to fall into the lake. Don’t you remember what dad always says? Everyone deserves a second chance.’

D’Artagnan scowled, but eventually gave in. 

‘Fine. But I won’t promise not to hit him if I ever see him.’

‘I can live with that,’ Aramis then turned to Treville. ‘Do I have to tell you the same thing I told the pup? Because you know you can’t throw Ryan into jail for this.’

Treville smiled slightly at the teasing tone in his son’s voice. 

‘Nah, I’m good. What matters most is that you’re okay. Besides, Ryan’s dad assured me that Ryan will face consequences.’

*****

Aramis sighed as he closed his locker. His ex had approached him earlier today, saying that she was truly for what had happened and asking if they could get back together. If he was being honest with himself, he knew he didn’t want to date her anymore. It was only a matter of time before she’d cheat on him again. For some reason, his relationships never lasted longer than a month. How nice it would be if he could finally find a steady girlfriend. 

A hand on his shoulder made Aramis turn around. His heart skipped a beat when he realised Anne Dowling was standing in front of him. Anne was considered queen of the school, because of her beauty, intelligence and popularity. Many students liked and knew her, either from the many activities she participated in or because of her kindness to anyone. And here she was, smiling at him. 

He fully expected her boyfriend to materialise beside her any second, but that didn’t happen. Slowly, it started dawning on him that he should greet her. 

‘Hi. Can I help you?’

Nicely done idiot, he berated himself. Luckily, Anne didn’t seem to take any offense to it, as she simply smiled. 

‘Hi yourself. I just wanted to know if you’re okay, after the hypothermia and everything.’

Aramis frowned. 

‘How did you know about that? I didn’t tell anyone I had hypothermia.’

‘Oh, you probably don’t remember. My dog found you, so I called 911. You weren’t breathing so I performed CPR. I’m glad to see you back at school. You looked awful that morning.’

Aramis beamed at her. 

‘You saved my life! Thank you so much for that.’

Anne laughed shyly. 

‘No thanks needed.’

‘Yes, there is! Without you, I wouldn’t be here right now. How about I buy you a coffee after school?’

‘I would like that very much.’

*****

4 pm found Aramis in Starbucks, drinking coffee with Anne. They were having great fun and had discovered they shared many interests. At the moment, the two were discussing family. 

‘I have four siblings,’ Anne told him. ‘Three brothers and one sister, all younger. Philip is 14, Maria is 13, Carlos is 12 and Fernando is 10. They’re a handful but I love them. Do you have any siblings?’

‘Three, all brothers. Two of them are older, one is younger. Athos is 22, Porthos is 20 and d’Artagnan is 12. We’re all super tight, even though Athos and Porthos are at college right now. How are your parents?’

‘My father works very hard, so we don’t see him much. My mother died a year after Fernando was born. She was a great woman though, kind and caring. My siblings don’t remember her, they were too young. Since my father works so much, I usually look after my siblings.’

‘I’m so sorry about your mother.’

Anne shrugged. 

‘It’s okay. I still miss her but it doesn’t hurt anymore. What about your parents?’

‘Well, I’m adopted. My adoptive mother died a month after they adopted me, so it’s just our adoptive dad. You probably know him, he’s captain of the police department here. He’s a great guy, always giving us more than we deserve.’

They talked until half past five. Aramis found out Anne had broken up with her creepy boyfriend and he realised he was starting to fall for the girl. She was funny and quick-witted, a match for his cheekiness. When it started to get dark outside, they realised they had to go home. Aramis offered to drive her home, something Anne happily accepted. 

When they arrived at Anne’s home, Aramis gathered all the courage he possessed and gently grasped her hand. 

‘I really enjoyed this afternoon and I really like you. Would you like to go on a date with me?’

Anne beamed at him. 

‘I would love to! How about dinner, Friday night?’

‘I’ll pick you up at 7.’

‘It’s a date. Bye Aramis.’

She kissed him on the cheek and got out of the car. Aramis was still staring after her when the front door closed behind her. He smiled at himself as he drove away. Maybe, going to Tammy’s party hadn’t been such a bad idea after all.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I made king Louis a dog. I imagine him as a poodle but if you have a different idea, I'd love to hear it. By the way, romance isn't really my forte so I hope this was okay.


	28. Meeting Constance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ages: d'Artagnan is 14

D’Artagnan stared out the window of the classroom. Today was his first day of high-school. His father had told him he didn’t have anything to worry about. As long as he did his best and didn’t cause trouble, he would be fine. Still, d’Artagnan felt like he had a lot to live up to. Athos had been stoic and smart, often getting straight A’s, Porthos had been one of the best jocks the school had ever seen and Aramis the famous ladies’ man. Not to mention all the different subjects they took. Athos had excelled at everything business related, Porthos at history and Aramis at all things science. So even if d’Artagnan managed to be just as good in one of those departments, it wouldn’t really matter because one of his brothers had already done it. 

‘Excuse me, is this seat taken?’

D’Artagnan looked up and saw a beautiful girl pointing at the chair next to him. Red curls were pulled back into a braid and blue eyes sparkled with friendliness. The girl had a blue bag hanging of one shoulder and big book in her arms. D’Artagnan quickly shook himself out of his daze. 

‘Y-yes, I mean no, I mean you can sit there. It’s not taken.’

The girl smiled at him and sat down. After placing her stuff in front of her, she held out a hand. 

‘Hi, I’m Constance.’

He shook her hand, smiling back at her. 

‘I’m d’Artagnan. Nice to meet you.’

‘Same. So, is this class hard?’

D’Artagnan frowned. 

‘I don’t know. It’s my first day here.’

Excitement and relief lit up Constance’s eyes. 

‘Oh, you have no idea how glad I am to hear that. I thought I was gonna be the only first year here. Were you raised bilingual too or are you just good at French?’

‘Well, I was born in France, but moved here when I was about 2 years old. I was raised bilingual as well though.’

‘That’s so cool! I mean, I was born here but my parents are from France. They speak both French and English with me.’

Their conversation was interrupted by the teacher, who started the class. Since it was the first day, it mostly existed of getting their syllabus and introducing themselves to the class in French. When first period ended, Constance turned towards d’Artagnan. 

‘I have English next. You?’

‘Same.’

‘That’s great. Do you take the Honours class? We could walk together.’

‘Sure. Let’s go.’

The two ended up spending most of the day together. They had a few different classes, since d’Artagnan had taken up Basic Drafting and Computer Graphics, while Constance had Journalism and Living Theatre. Both were delighted when they discovered their lockers were next to each other and that they had lunch break together. 

During lunch, they sat opposite each other and told the other more about themselves. Constance laughed when d’Artagnan told her that he had three older brothers and proceeded to tell him that she had three big brothers as well. 

‘I’m closest to Matthieu,’ she told him. ‘He’s only three years older than me and a senior. Berton and Robert both study in France. Robert studies Medicine at Sorbonne and Berton European Law at Strasbourg. Robert is 20, he’s the oldest and Berton is 19. What about your brothers?’

‘Well, Aramis is the same age as Robert, so they might have known each other. Athos is 24 and Porthos 22. They’re both in the army right now, Porthos joined this summer and Athos two years ago. Aramis is studying at Northern Virginia Community College to become a paramedic. Porthos graduated in Criminal Justice at Rutgers University and Athos graduated in Economics from Harvard College.’

After last period ended, the two met up at their lockers. D’Artagnan was disappointed when Constance told him she wasn’t taking the school bus. It was logical of course, she only lived a few blocks away. Nonetheless, he had hoped to spend some more time together. 

‘Bye, d’Artagnan. I’ll see you at English tomorrow.’

‘Yeah, bye.’

*****

Treville smiled as he heard the back door open. A few moments later, d’Artagnan appeared in the living room. The teenager looked tired and sweaty, yet there was a spring in his step. 

‘Hey, son. How did fencing go?’

‘Good. What are we having for dinner?’

‘Spaghetti. Go take a shower, I’ll prepare dinner. We’ll eat in about 30 minutes.’

During dinner, d’Artagnan was surprisingly silent. He was staring into the distance and barely touching his food. When Treville called his name, the teenager didn’t react. Eventually, Treville snapped his fingers in front of the boy’s face, successfully startling his youngest. 

‘What’s wrong?’

‘You tell me,’ Treville answered. ‘Are you, at any point, going to actually eat your dinner or did I cook for nothing?’

‘Oh, sorry,’ d’Artagnan smiled sheepishly. 

Treville shook his head in amusement. 

‘Well, now that I have your attention, why don’t you tell me about your first day?’

‘We didn’t do much, to be honest. Mostly getting the syllabus and the teachers trying to remember everyone’s name.’

‘How was French? Do you think it’s too easy?’

D’Artagnan’s face lit up. 

‘French was great! There’s another first year in my class, so I’m not the only one.’

‘That’s good to hear. Is this person nice?’

‘Her name is Constance and she’s awesome. She was raised bilingual and she’s really smart. Our lockers are next to each other and we have a lot of classes together, as well as lunch break.’

Treville chuckled at his son’s enthusiasm. 

‘She sounds nice.’

D’Artagnan glared at him. 

‘Nice isn’t a befitting word for her. Constance is better than nice, she’s amazing. She is the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen!’

‘Careful there, d’Art, you sound like you’re in love.’

D’Artagnan blushed and stared at his dinner. 

‘I’m not. Constance is just great.’

Treville clapped him on the shoulder. 

‘Don’t worry, son, I’m just teasing you. It’s great to hear that you’ve made a friend. Have you signed up for a sports team yet?’

‘Yeah, I’m gonna do cross country this season.’

‘Porthos and Aramis will be disappointed. Your brothers are betting on which sports you’ll do each season. I’ll inform Athos he won the bet.’

D’Artagnan grinned. 

*****

D’Artagnan took a deep breath as he walked towards his locker. Today was the day. He was gonna tell Constance how he felt. It had taken him months to build up the courage. They had become best friends and he was very afraid of ruining their friendship. Aside from that, he wasn’t sure if he actually stood a chance. D’Artagnan knew he was a scrawny kid and was still waiting for his grow spurt. He wasn’t as small as he used to be, but still. 

When his brothers had come home for Christmas (Athos and Porthos had been a big surprise, they hadn’t been sure if they were gonna make it), d’Artagnan had asked them for advice. After laughing for a good five minutes, Aramis had wrapped an arm around d’Artagnan’s shoulders and told him how to flirt with a girl. At some point, Athos and Porthos had cut into the conversation with their opinions and that had started a big discussion and eventually a wrestling match between the three men. However, d’Artagnan still hadn’t gotten any wiser. Then, Anne, Aramis’ girlfriend, had pulled him aside and assured him that girls appreciated it most if a guy was honest with them. 

‘If you really like Constance,’ she said. ‘Just tell her. You’re a sweet boy and you stand just as much of a chance as anyone else. Be honest and be yourself.’

So here he was, now waiting by his locker for Constance. He had even bought a bracelet for her, as a gift. When she appeared, she ran up to him. Her red curls bounced up and down and her eyes were shining with excitement. A big grin was threatening to split her face apart. As soon as she reached him, she hugged him. 

‘d’Artagnan, I need to tell you something!’

‘So do I. You first.’

Constance took a deep breathe, visibly trying to calm down a bit and to stop herself from jumping up and down. 

‘Jacque just asked me out! You know, the guy from my Spanish class? I can’t believe he actually likes me. He’s so handsome and popular!’

As Constance rambled on, d’Artagnan’s face fell. He felt his heart break into a thousand pieces. She didn’t like him, of course she didn’t. Constance liked someone else. D’Artagnan clenched his fists and schooled his features. She was his best friend, he had to be happy for her. 

When Constance stopped talking, d’Artagnan smiled at her. 

‘That’s awesome, Constance! I’m happy for you.’

Her face lit up with a smile and she pulled him into another hug. As they walked to class together, Constance rambled excitedly about what she was gonna wear for her first date and where she and Jacques were going.

After they sat down, Constance turned towards him. 

‘I almost forgot. What is it that you wanted to tell me?’

‘Oh, I bought something for you. A friendship bracelet.’

He pulled the small box from his bag and gave it to her. Constance opened it and gasped. 

‘It’s beautiful, d’Artagnan! Thank you, you’re such a sweet friend. I wish I had gotten you something as well.’

‘It’s no problem. I’m just glad you like it.’

*****

The moment he was inside, d’Artagnan kicked his bag through the hallway and punched the wall. Tears were burning his eyes but he refused to let them fall. He was fourteen, he wasn’t going to cry! Boys didn’t cry when their heart was broken, only girls did. 

Finding it hard to keep his tears at bay, d’Artagnan threw away his jacket and stormed upstairs. Once in his room, he kicked his bed as hard as he could. Pain shot through his leg and he clamped down on it. Better to focus on the physical pain than the emotional one. Unfortunately, the pain ebbed away fast. D’Artagnan punched the wall again, as hard as he could. And then did it again and again. 

He didn’t notice his phone ringing, nor did he hear the front door open minutes later. Even when the door to his bedroom flew open, he didn’t react. But when a hand caught his fist and pulled him away from the wall, d’Artagnan started struggling.

‘d’Artagnan, calm down!’

The teenager looked up and stared into his father’s eyes. And suddenly, it was all too much. He couldn’t keep the tears in any longer. He flung himself at his father and started to cry. 

Treville tightened his arms around his youngest. When he had been able to go home earlier, he had been very surprised to find d’Artagnan’s bag and jacket on the floor. As he went upstairs, he had heard weird noises coming from the boy’s room. He had been shocked to find d’Artagnan punching the wall, over and over. 

‘Hey, it’s okay, son. Let it out.’

Treville kept up a steady flow of soothing words and rubbed circles on d’Artagnan’s back. Finally, the boy calmed down and stepped back, wiping his eyes as he did so. Treville winced at the bruises on the teenager’s knuckles. He would have to take a look at that later. D’Artagnan plopped down on his bed and Treville sat down next to him. 

‘Want to tell me what happened?’

Fresh tears sprang into d’Artagnan’s eyes and he angrily rubbed him away. He wasn’t a girl, for god’s sake!

‘Constance likes someone else. She told me someone had asked her out, before I could tell her that I like her.’

Treville wrapped an arm around d’Artagnan. 

‘I’m sorry, buddy.’

D’Artagnan chuckled mirthlessly. 

‘Yeah, well, it’s not exactly a surprise, is it? I mean, look at me. What was I even thinking? I’m not handsome like Aramis, or strong like Porthos, let alone as smart as Athos. Constance is way too good for me. I never stood a chance.’

Treville grabbed d’Artagnan’s chin and made the boy face him. 

‘Now you listen here. You’re just as good as everyone else. Sure, you still have some growing to do, but you’re a great boy. Don’t compare yourself to your brothers, because you are not them. You are d’Artagnan and you have your own qualities. And I’m sure that Constance doesn’t think lowly of you. You’re best friends, are you not?’

‘Yes, but…’

‘There is no but. Okay, maybe she doesn’t like you the way you like her. But she isn’t the only girl out there.’

‘She’s the only girl for me,’ d’Artagnan muttered. 

‘Well then, don’t forget you’re only fourteen. You still have your whole life ahead of you. Maybe in a few years, she’ll return your feelings.’

‘How would you know?’

‘Because that’s what happened with me and Alexa. I met her when I was twelve and I immediately had a crush on her. But she liked one of my friends. Then, in my junior year, the two broke up and she confessed that she liked me. And you know the rest.’


	29. Home is where the heart is

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ages: Athos is 25, Porthos is 23, Aramis is 21 and d'Artagnan is 15.

Athos was relieved when the helicopter landed. As much as he didn’t regret joining the army, there were times that he wished he hadn’t. Or rather, that Porthos hadn’t signed up as well. The only small seed of comfort that he had, was that they were in the same unit. At least Athos could keep an eye on his younger brother. 

Porthos risked a glance at his older brother. Athos looked tired, although Porthos supposed the entire unit did. It had been a tough mission and for a while, it had seemed that they weren’t going to see another day. But by some sort of miracle, they were able to pull through. Yes, they had a few wounded man, but the medics were hopeful. 

As they got out of the helicopter, Athos walked away to report, after ordering Porthos and the others to get cleaned up and eat. Porthos entered his tent, grateful to be out of the sun. After getting cleaned up, he lifted his pillow and grabbed the picture lying under it. God, how he missed home. Sure, joining the army had been his own free choice, but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel homesick from time to time. And he knew for a fact that Athos felt the same. 

Athos sighed as he left the General’s tent. He had received a new mission for his unit, one that they would have to do tomorrow. He didn’t like how they were basically going in blind. But he couldn’t defy a direct order, so he would he just have to suck it up. Nonetheless, it was Athos who was responsible for his men, and for what happened to them. Walking over to where his unit was eating, Athos grabbed a plate and joined them. Porthos suddenly appeared and sat down beside him. 

‘What’s the news?’ 

‘Got another mission tomorrow. We have to rescue a school of children. I’ll inform you all later. Right now, I wanna eat.’ 

‘Sure thing. Hey, do you think we have time to call home tonight? I know that ‘Mis is visiting this weekend.’

‘Don’t see why not. We’ll set it up after dinner.’

*****

Athos and Porthos stared at the screen in disbelief, where a German Sheppard puppy barked at them excitedly. Its’ tail wagged happily. Porthos was the first to shook himself out of his stupor. 

‘Let me see if I’ve heard this right? You’re telling me that dad actually bought the pup a puppy? For real?’

‘Yup.’ Aramis answered at the same time d’Artagnan exclaimed indignantly: ‘I’m not a pup!’

Porthos and Aramis both opened their mouths, mischievous gleams in their eyes. Athos quickly intervened with another question.

‘What’s his name?’

‘Ethan,’ d’Artagnan answered proudly. ‘Dad let me pick the name. Look at Ethan! Isn’t he awesome?’

‘He sure is. Are you taking him to training?’

‘Dad is. Ethan loves it. Although I suppose he loves anything that involves being active.’

The puppy started to whine and d’Artagnan placed the Sheppard on his lap. 

‘I think he wants to go downstairs. I’ll be back in a minute.’

As soon as the boy had disappeared out of the room, Athos and Porthos rounded on Aramis. 

‘Okay, spill. Why did dad buy the dog?’

Aramis scratched the back of his head and looked behind him to make sure the door was closed. 

‘I think it was because d’Art has been really depressed lately. That girl he likes is dating someone else, which was a big blow to his self-esteem. And I think the kid is feeling lonely, now that we’ve all left home. How are things with you guys?’ 

‘Could be better. It’s really hot here and it gets tough sometimes. And almost everyone on our squad is feeling homesick.’

‘Does it seem like you’re coming home anytime soon? We miss you.’ 

Athos sighed. 

‘It’ll be at least another month before we’re granted leave. I’m sorry, ‘Mis.’

Aramis nodded and he smiled, although it did not reach his eyes. Both older brothers noticed and felt guilt wash over them. They wanted nothing more than reach through the screen and hug their brother. Suddenly, the distance felt greater than ever. 

D’Artagnan came into view again, a real smile still apparent on his face. That quickly disappeared when he noticed the sadness in his brothers’ eyes. 

‘You’re not coming home yet, are you?’ 

It was strange, how the mood had changed so quickly. When the video call had started, they were all happy and amused. Now, they felt sad, guilty and homesick. By the end of the call, none of them were able to smile. It was cruel, Athos pondered as he lay in bed, that Porthos and he couldn’t say goodbye to their brothers. Not really anyway. They couldn’t tell them of the mission and that it was rather likely that they wouldn’t return. If he or Porthos died in the field tomorrow, their dad and brothers would not be prepared for the call.

Well, their father probably was prepared, but you could never really be ready for the news that someone you care for has died. When Athos first decided to join the army, Treville had asked him why. Athos hadn’t been able to answer that, he just felt like he had to join. Aramis had asked him if he was aware that he could die out there. Yes, Athos knew that there was every possibility of him not coming home. But that didn’t stop him. Sacrifices were needed to make the world a safer place. And deep in his heart, Athos knew that that was the reason he had joined. Because he saw all the terrible things that happened in the world every day, on the news, and wanted to help. Wanted to make the world a better place. 

But one thing he still didn’t understand, was how one could make the world a better place by killing people. 

Porthos stared at the ceiling of his tent. He did not believe in God, hadn’t since his mom died. The few times he had gone to Church, he was told that God loved all his children and cared for them. Well, Porthos didn’t believe that. If that was true, then why did God abandon him and his brothers? What had they done to deserve such a shit-storm so early in their lives? He sighed and turned onto his side. Now was not the time to think about stuff like that. He was gonna need every minute of sleep he could get. 

*****

It felt like he was drowning. Which was weird, since Athos was pretty sure there wasn’t any water in the desert. Apparently, that didn’t matter, because he was going under. Breathing had become impossible. Athos tried to kick his way to the surface, but it seemed there wasn’t anything to swim up to. The harder he fought, the deeper he went. Around the edges of his vision, everything seemed to darken. With the darkness came a certain calmness, one that he hadn’t felt in a while. Athos closed his eyes and allowed the darkness to claim him. 

When he opened his eyes, a blue sky greeted him. The occasional cloud drifted by and sun streamed down on his face. Athos sat up gingerly and took in his surroundings. To his great surprise, he was sitting opposite of his father’s house. His home. 

‘This can’t be real. I must be dreaming.’

‘No, you’re not dreaming.’

Athos looked up and saw Aramis standing on the porch. But instead of his usual mischievous smile, the younger man looked sad. He walked towards Athos and helped him up. 

‘What’s going on, Aramis?’

‘Later. Let’s get you inside first. Trust me, you wanna sit in a chair for this one.’

When they entered the living room, Athos frowned. Something was missing, something very essential. He turned back towards Aramis, who had sat down opposite of him. 

‘Look, Athos, something happened to you during your mission. You were shot and the doctors are not sure you’ll survive.’

An awful pain filled Athos’ chest as Aramis spoke and he had trouble breathing. He coughed and wheezed, trying to control his breathing. Once he finally managed, memories flashed before his eyes. 

‘You remember, don’t you?’ Aramis asked. 

‘Some of it. I was trying to get to Porthos, I think, because I had seen him go down. Back-up hadn’t arrived and I knew it wouldn’t come, but I had to try and get Porthos to safety. I couldn’t let him die, not like that.’

‘I’m afraid that’s not up to you. There’s every chance Porthos dies today. He experienced some serious head trauma.’

Athos frowned. 

‘How do you know that? You weren’t there.’

‘I’m a part of you. The real Aramis is home, with your father and d’Artagnan. Aramis simply resembles the thing you need most. But that’s beside the point. Right now, you have to make a decision.’

‘What kind of decision?’

‘Whether you’re gonna fight to survive or not.’

*****

Porthos groaned as he opened his eyes. He was experiencing the mother of all headaches, he was sure of it. The ground under him was hard, which was strange. Wasn’t sand supposed to be soft? As he pushed himself into a sitting position, Porthos realised he wasn’t in the desert anymore. If anything, it looked like he was in the neighbourhood where he used to live with his mother. The place sure was rundown enough for it. 

Footsteps behind him made him climb to his feet and turn around. His chest tightened painfully when he recognised his mother. She looked just like he remembered her, only a lot healthier. 

‘Mom?’ His voice sounded a lot smaller than usual. 

She smiled at him and spread out her arms. 

‘Porthos, my sweet boy.’

He didn’t need more invitation and flew into her embrace. She still felt the same, soft but strong. Porthos let out a choked breath. 

‘How is this possible? You’re dead.’

His mom let go and sighed sadly. 

‘You’re dying, sweetie.’

Porthos jumped as the sound of gunshots suddenly filled the air. Combined with the smell of blood and death, it made him want to throw up. A soft hand stroked his cheek. 

‘It’s your memories of the battle. Right now, you’re in the hospital and the doctors are trying to save your life.’

‘Do you know what happened?’

‘No. You can’t remember it, so I can’t either. What I do know is that you have to make a choice.’

Porthos frowned. 

‘What kind of choice?’

His mother gently grasped his hand. 

‘Let me show you.’

Their surroundings faded and became a blur. When they became clear again, Porthos found himself standing halfway up a hill. On the top, he could see the vague outlines of a playground. Downhill, he recognised a small town. Porthos smiled at his mother. 

‘I remember this place. When I turned four, you had saved up all your money so we could go on this small trip. It was amazing.’

‘You loved it so much. It was your first real holiday and you were happy for weeks after. If you come with me to the top, we can visit again.’

She stretched out her hand and Porthos was about to take it, when he heard another familiar voice shouting for him. He looked down the hill and saw someone running up the path. 

‘d’Artagnan!’ Porthos exclaimed. 

As soon as his younger brother reached them, Porthos pulled him into a hug. D’Artagnan panted for a few moments, trying to regain his breath. 

‘Porthos, wait. Before you go, I need to tell you something. If you go to the top, you can’t come down.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean that you have to make a choice. Right now, you’re dying, but you can fight. Try to live. If you don’t want to, then you have to go to the top. But once you’re at the top, your hart will stop beating. You will die.’

Before Porthos could react, his mother placed a hand on his shoulder. 

‘Your brother is right. This place is your choice. Either you come with me to the top and die, or you go with the boy to the town and fight.’

D’Artagnan looked at Porthos, his eyes shining with concern and honesty. 

‘Look, Porthos, I cannot guarantee that you’ll survive. But isn’t our family worth trying? Yes, on the top of the hill is no pain, no sadness and no violence. The town has all that. But we’re brothers, Porthos. We will always have your back, no matter what. We are family.’

Porthos felt torn. On one hand, he wanted nothing more than come with his mother and end all the pain he was experiencing. But on the other hand, he knew d’Artagnan was right. They were a family and he knew they would support him no matter what. If anything, he owed it to them to at least try. 

*****

Athos took in his surroundings before turning back to Aramis. 

‘So, you’re telling me that this is where I have to choose?’

Aramis nodded and pointed to their left. 

‘That way leads to Le Mont-Saint Michel. The other way leads to La Caserne. It’s up to you where you go.’

‘Why this place?’

Aramis shrugged. 

‘Because it represents something to you. Remember that trip to France you went on when you were six?’

Athos couldn’t help but smile at the memories. It was one of his favourite memories of his biological family. Because his father was busy, the man had stayed behind at the hotel to work. Which meant it was just Athos, Thomas and their mother who went to see Le Mont-Saint Michel. And it had been breath-taking. Thomas, only four years old at the time, had sworn he would live there one day.

Suddenly, Athos knew what his choices represented. If he went to Le Mont-Saint Michel, he would be reunited with his mother and Thomas. But that would also mean that he died. Going to La Caserne meant that he would fight to survive and hopefully return to his father and brothers. Athos felt conflicted. Oh, what he wouldn’t give to see his mother and Thomas again. Even now, 18 years after their deaths, he still missed them. 

Aramis rested a hand on his shoulder. 

‘I know that you miss them and I understand that. But think of our family. The family you have been part of for 16 years now. We need you, more than you might think. It would break us if we lost you. It’s your choice brother, but think of the consequences.’

*****

Treville held d’Artagnan as the teenager sobbed inconsolably into his shoulder. On his other side, Aramis was seated. The young man was leaning forward slightly, arms resting on his legs, head bowed and rosary tightly clasped between his hands. He was keeping up a steady murmur and Treville realised the young man was praying. 

‘Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Venga tu reino. Hastage tu voluntad en la tierra como en el cielo.’

The mixture of English and Spanish meant that Aramis was very worried. Not that Treville blamed them, they all were. Even though he knew it could always come, nothing could have prepared Treville for the call he received two weeks ago. Athos and Porthos had both received life threatening injuries and had to be treated immediately. 

It took time to stabilize the men, but thanks to some amazing doctors, it happened. After that, they were sent back to the US to be treated there further. The reactions from Aramis and d’Artagnan after Treville had ended the call, was something he would never forget. The former had paled and then proceeded to ask what the injuries were and when Athos and Porthos would arrive in the USA. D’Artagnan had cried out and then curled into himself, heart-breaking sobs escaping the teenager. 

Aramis looked at his rosary as he recited his prayer over and over again. Athos and Porthos didn’t believe in God, he knew that. But praying was the only thing Aramis could do for his brothers right now. He couldn’t treat Athos’ bullet wounds and punctured lungs or Porthos’ fractured skull. Aramis wasn’t a surgeon or a doctor. He had to put his faith in those who were and hope his brothers would live. 

He risked a glance to his side and saw d’Artagnan had finally exhausted himself enough to fall asleep. Aramis knew it wouldn’t last though. The boy hadn’t been able to sleep properly ever since they heard about Porthos and Athos. And Aramis knew the feeling. They probably both looked like crap. Still, they’d look worse if their father didn’t force them to shower and eat at least once a day. The three of them spent every day at the hospital, waiting for Athos and Porthos to wake up. D’Artagnan had refused to go to school, as had Aramis. Their father had realised it was an argument he could never win and didn’t fight them. 

Athos and Porthos were both in the ICU and hooked onto more machines than Aramis cared to know about. They weren’t breathing for themselves, yet scans had showed that they weren’t braindead. The doctor had just announced that it was up to Porthos and Athos whether they lived or not. If they chose to fight, there was a chance that they might make it. But there was also a chance that they would die.   
D’Artagnan hadn’t been able to take it and almost became physical. The teenager had pounced on the doctor, screaming that she was lying. Their father had been able to pull him back and immediately hugged the boy, trying to comfort him. That did it and d’Artagnan started crying. Out of the four of them, he had always been the most emotional one, wearing his heart on his sleeve. It was clear to Aramis that the boy was slipping. 

He bowed his head and started praying again. Only this time, it wasn’t to God. 

‘Please, Athos, Porthos, wake up. We need you. I don’t know what will happen if you die, but I do know d’Artagnan and I won’t be far behind. Please, come home.’

*****

D’Artagnan woke up with his head on his father’s shoulder. He felt his phone vibrate and for a moment he considered not checking. In the end, he fished it out of his pocket and a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He had asked Constance to look after Ethan for him, which she did with love. And even though she knew d’Artagnan probably wouldn’t check his phone, she send him updates on his dog anyways. D’Artagnan suspected the reason she did it was to make him smile a bit. If that was indeed her mission, then she was succeeding. Constance had sent him a picture of Ethan sleeping in her bookbag. 

Putting his phone back in his pocket, d’Artagnan looked over at his father. Only now, he realised Aramis wasn’t there. A hand on his shoulder made him turn around. Aramis was standing in front of him and put a finger to his lips. 

‘Let dad sleep, he needs it. I’m going the ICU, join me?’

D’Artagnan nodded and they made a quick stop at the toilets to clean their hands thoroughly. At the ICU, they were greeted by an elderly nurse who had immediately recognised them. 

‘Coming to visit your brothers again, boys?’

‘Yes ma’am,’ Aramis answered politely. ‘Our father will probably be here later. We didn’t want to wake him.’

‘That’s very sweet of you. Come, let’s get you two to your brothers.’

By some fortune, Athos and Porthos had been placed in the same room. d’Artagnan knew that if someone blindfolded him know, he could still map out the entire place. He had been in there often enough the past week. The teenager sat down next to Athos’ bed. It was hard, seeing his brothers like this. Aramis was seated next to Porthos and had grasped the man’s hand, already praying again. The first two days, d’Artagnan had done the same. But on the third day, when the doctors were starting to become a bit pessimistic, d’Artagnan had stopped. What was the use of it? Either his brothers died or they lived. Praying wouldn’t make a difference. 

Without realising it, d’Artagnan started crying again. Tears streamed down his face and when he spoke to Athos, his voice broke. 

‘Please, ‘Thos, wake up. S’Il te plaît, grand frère. J’ai besoin de toi.’ 

When Athos’ eyelids fluttered, d’Artagnan was sure he was imagining things. But then his brother’s heartrate started picking up slightly and his eyelids fluttered again. 

On the other side of the room, Aramis was holding onto Porthos’ hand like a lifeline. Contrary to what d’Artagnan thought, the man wasn’t praying. He was begging for his brother to wake up. 

‘Porthos, you can’t die. When I was 13, you promised that you would never leave me. Don’t break that promise, brother. Please, come back, I’m begging you.’

As Aramis façade finally broke and tears started shining in his eyes, Porthos’ fingers suddenly twitched. The younger man froze, not daring to believe it. Ever so slightly, he tightened his grip on Porthos’ hand. And then Porthos’ squeezed his hand in return. It was a small gesture, but Aramis knew it meant that Porthos was telling him that the promise would not be broken. That his brother would never leave him. 

Two joyous shouts filled the room. 

‘Athos!’ ‘Porthos!’

And then, as one: 

‘Nurse!’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations  
> S’Il te plaît, grand frère. J’ai besoin de toi: Please, big brother. I need you.


	30. How to save a life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ages: Athos is 26, Porthos 24, Aramis 22 and d'Artagnan is 16.   
> Trigger warning: contains high-school shooting and suicide.

D’Artagnan sighed as he stared at the ceiling of his bedroom. A glance at the alarm clock told him that it was 1 am. With a sigh, he sat up. He clearly wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight. Grabbing his phone from the nightstand, d’Artagnan made his way downstairs. The moment he sat down on the couch, an apparently awake Ethan jumped next to him. D’Artagnan smiled at the dog. 

‘Hey buddy. Guess you couldn’t sleep either huh?’

A soft bark was his answer and Ethan placed his head on d’Artagnan’s thigh. The teenager scratched him behind the ears while staring at his phone. Halfway through his sophomore year, he had made friends with a guy named Tyler. They shared an interest for computers and had bonded over that. Most of the time, the two of them would hang out, especially now that the friendship between Constance and d’Artagnan was fading. Heaving another sigh, d’Artagnan leaned against the back of the couch. 

‘I’m worried about Tyler,’ he told his dog. ‘He hasn’t been at school for almost a week and he hasn’t returned any of my calls.’

D’Artagnan knew his friend had it tough at school. There were bullies a plenty, Constance’s boyfriend being a fine example. D’Artagnan didn’t have much problem with the school bullies, having his brothers’ reputations as well as his own to lean on. Tyler, however, didn’t have that. He wasn’t a very good fighter nor did he have any siblings. D’Artagnan tried to stick up for his friend whenever he could, but he wasn’t able to be with his friend 24/7. 

‘I just hope he’s okay.’

*****

The first thing Treville encountered when he entered the living room, was d’Artagnan sleeping on the couch with Ethan in his lap. He sighed. Lately, it seemed his youngest had hit rock bottom. The teenager didn’t sleep well, if at all, and was very closed off. Treville knew where it originated from, but he also knew d’Artagnan didn’t want to talk to him about it. 

At the start of summer vacation, Aramis had announced that he signed up with the army. Treville hadn’t been too enthusiastic about it, especially since Athos and Porthos had decided to stay with the army for another tour. But he wouldn’t stop his son from joining. D’Artagnan, however, had lost his temper. That was a regular occurrence ever since the boy had hit puberty, but this was by far his worst moment. The boy had screamed at his brothers, he had punched them and had shut them out. At the day the three men left, d’Artagnan realised that they would truly go and had shouted that he hated them and hoped they would never come back. 

Ever since then, the 16-year old had been depressed, as well as angry. Whenever Athos, Porthos and Aramis called, d’Artagnan refused to talk to them. Whether it was because he was still hurt or out of sheer stubbornness, Treville didn’t know. What he did know was that it was killing all four of his sons. They were thick as thieves and for them to be divided like that was something unheard of. 

A groan pulled Treville out of his musings. D’Artagnan was rubbing his neck and staring sleepily at him. 

‘Before you ask, it’s 6.30 am. Go upstairs and get ready for school. I’ll walk Ethan.’

*****

D’Artagnan glared at his homework as he sat in the library. He had a free period and had decided to finish his Calculus homework now, so that he didn’t have to do it when he got home. Usually, he enjoyed this subject but today he was hitting a wall. 

The sound of books hitting his table made him look up. Opposite of him stood a beautiful girl, with long blonde curls and green eyes. She smiled at him. 

‘Mind if I sit here?’

‘Sure. You’re Lucie right? Lucie de Foix?’

‘That’s right. I’ve seen you in my Calculus class and I noticed how good you are. I was thinking that you could maybe help me out?’

D’Artagnan smirked at her. 

‘I’m a bit stuck myself, but for a beautiful girl like you, I’ll try my best.’

Lucie hit his arm, but her smile stayed on her face. 

‘Great. Less flirting then and more explaining.’

He moved his stuff and sat down next to her. They had just solved two problems when Constance and her boyfriend entered. D’Artagnan glanced at her and smiled, but she was staring at the hand Lucie was resting on his arm. Before d’Artagnan could do anything else, Constance had already turned around and followed Jacques to a table on the other side of the room. 

A ping from her phone made Lucie looked up. She was positively beaming after she had checked it. 

‘What is it?’

‘That was my brother. He just texted me. He’s back at base and will probably be granted leave in a few weeks. I can’t believe he’s coming home. I’ve missed him so much these past months.’

As she continued talking, d’Artagnan tried very hard not to think of his own brothers. His father had told him that Athos, Porthos and Aramis were at the base and hoping to come home soon. Well, he didn’t care. He didn’t want them to come home. 

‘Do you really mean that?’ a voice asked that sounded suspiciously like his dad. ‘Or are you just upset that they left, even though you didn’t want them too?’

Before he could tell the voice in his head to shut up, gunshots sounded from the hallway. People screamed and dove away. D’Artagnan grabbed Lucie’s hand and dragged her onto the ground. Looking around, he noticed a covered corner between a study corral and some bookcases. He pushed Lucie into it first and then crawled after her, making sure she was completely hidden behind him. 

‘Do you still have your phone?’ he whispered. 

She shook head, fear muting her. D’Artagnan nodded and pulled his own out of his pocket. Putting it on mute, he was about to send a text to his dad when the doors of the library were thrown open.   
D’Artagnan quickly tucked his phone away and turned to Lucie. 

‘Whatever happens, stay quiet and behind me, okay?’

Shots and screams filled the air. He felt his body freeze up in fear but quickly stopped it. Now was not the time. He had to keep Lucie safe. Behind him, he felt her hand slip into his. D’Artagnan squeezed her hand in what he hoped was a comfortable manner. 

‘Hello. Who do we have here?’

D’Artagnan looked up to a gun aimed steadily at his forehead. But when he looked at the person holding the gun, he had to stop himself from moving abruptly. The voice had sounded familiar and now that he was looking at the gunman, he knew why. 

‘Tyler? What are you doing?’

His friend laughed. 

‘Can’t you see? I’m making those bullies pay for what they did!’

D’Artagnan couldn’t help himself. His temper rose up. 

‘By shooting people?! How is that helping?!’

‘You should be thankful that you’re not one of them. Otherwise, I would have shot you already. If I were you, I would stay down and be quiet, understood?’

Before he could come up with a smart retort, Lucie pulled slightly on his hand. Reminding himself of his intention to keep her safe, he grounded out: ‘Understood.’

Not even bothering to answer, Tyler walked away. 

‘Come out, come out, wherever you are Jacques! You’re going to pay for all the things you did to me.’

Behind him, Lucie let out a sigh of relief. D’Artagnan thanked his lucky stars for the growth spurt he had gotten last summer, otherwise he wouldn’t have been tall enough to hide Lucie with his body. Slowly, he reached for his phone again. He was sure that by now, his dad had already heard about the shots being fired. Nonetheless, he wanted to make sure that his dad knew he was alive. 

He almost dropped his phone when another gunshot sounded. He had to do something, he couldn’t let everyone in the room be killed. Turning around, he shoved his phone into Lucie’s hand. 

‘My dad’s captain of the police force. Text him, tell him the shooter is in the library.’

‘What are you going to do?’

‘Stop the shooter.’

*****

As a police officer, Treville had seen many awful things that people did to each other. Through it all, he never let it get to him. He had seen colleagues drowning themselves in alcohol because they couldn’t take it anymore. Treville always let it fuel his drive to keep his town safe. And even more important, his sons. When he and Alexa had just gotten married, Treville decided that he wanted this town to be a place where his children could grow up safely. After losing his wife, that intention never left. After all, he had Aramis. And then later on, he had Porthos, Athos and d’Artagnan as well. 

Anyways, the point was, Treville never lost his cool. He took care of the situation best he could and tried to make sure the innocents were safe and the criminals caught. But when one of his officers came bursting into his office, reporting that shots had been fired at the local high-school, fear coursed through Treville’s entire body. His youngest was at that school. His son was in danger, maybe even hurt. And for the first time, Treville actually panicked for a minute, before going into captain mode and giving out orders to his officers. 

*****

Athos smiled slightly as he watched Porthos wipe the floor with Aramis. They had decided to go for a round of sparring, so that they had something to do. Athos was sitting on the side-lines, laptop in his lap. He had to type up one last report before they could go on leave. He couldn’t wait to go home. 

Porthos and Aramis felt the same, even though there wouldn’t exactly be a warm welcome for the three of them when they came home. Sure, their dad would be happy, but they had no idea how d’Artagnan would react. It had been 4 months since they had last spoken with him, and it had been angry words that were exchanged. But perhaps, if they were home, they could have a chance to make it up to d’Artagnan. 

A google alert suddenly popped up on the corner of Athos’ screen. When he checked it, he swore violently.

*****

D’Artagnan carefully crept from his hiding place. He knew that he was putting himself in danger, but he couldn’t let anyone else die. Just as he reached the corner of a bookcase, he heard Tyler laugh. 

‘You’re pathetic, Jacques. Hiding behind your girlfriend. Not that it will do you any good. I’ll just shoot her first.’

Constance was frozen as she stared at the gun. She didn’t dare move, in case the gunman would shoot. At the same time, anger coursed through her body. She would never ask Jacques to take a bullet for her, but to shove her in front of him, begging the gunman to shoot her instead of him, that was something she did not expect him to do. 

‘Say your prayers, girl. You’re gonna die now.’

Constance took a deep breath and as she did, she noticed d’Artagnan inching closer towards her. With her eyes, she begged him to stay hidden. But the refusal in his eyes told her he wasn’t going to listen. 

‘Tyler!’’

D’Artagnan stood up straight as Tyler turned around to look at him. He slowly raised his hands as the gun was aimed steadily at his head. 

‘Before you shoot, listen to me. Give me two minutes to talk to you.’

Tyler narrowed his eyes. 

‘Why would I do that?’

‘Because you owe me that. I’ve stood up for you against bullies. I’m your friend.’

‘Fine, two minutes. But try anything funny and I’ll shoot you. Got it?’

d’Artagnan nodded. 

‘I know you’re hurting, Tyler. I get that you want to stand up for yourself. But shooting people is not the way. It makes you no better than those bullies.’

‘You think I want to be?! I just want revenge! They deserve it!’

‘All of them?! Even the people who don’t know your name? What about those freshmen in here? They’ve probably never even seen you before! Why do they deserve to die?’

‘I’m not shooting any innocent people. I didn’t shoot you, did I?’

‘Would you have spared me if you didn’t know me? Would you have shot me if I was just one of those people who passed you in the hallways every now and then?’

‘You’re wasting my time. Go back to your hiding place and stay quiet!’

He turned back around and aimed at Constance again. 

‘NO!’

With a desperate cry, d’Artagnan dove forward and blocked Constance from view. 

‘I won’t let you shoot her, or anyone else!’

‘Get out of the way! Or I’ll shoot you too!’

‘Go ahead. Shoot me instead of her.’

‘Don’t!’ Constance said. ‘Don’t shoot him.’

She tried to get d’Artagnan out of the way, but he wouldn’t budge. She had always been taller than him and it hit her for the first time that d’Artagnan had grown. She was completely hidden behind him. 

‘Tyler, if you’re gonna shoot anyone, shoot me. I should have helped you, should have been a better friend.’

‘Are you kidding me? Why are you protecting that jerk?! I know you hate him.’

‘That’s not the point. I’m begging you, put the gun down and stop. You know who my dad is, I can put in a word for you. I’ll even come to your hearing to testify for you. But please, stop this.’

All of them startled when they heard voices coming from the hallway. D’Artagnan noticed that Tyler was starting to panic. 

‘Tyler, put the gun down. I don’t want the police officers to shoot you on sight.’

‘Why do you keep pushing your luck? Stop talking and let me have my revenge. He deserves to die.’

‘No, he doesn’t! He deserves to be punished, but not by you. Please, stop this.’

The voices were coming closer and d’Artagnan was able to identify some of them. Tyler was staring at him intently and clearly came to some sort of conclusion. 

‘I won’t shoot him. But I’m not going to prison either. They’ll try me as an adult, for sure. Can you promise me something, d’Art?’

‘What is it?’

‘Promise me that you’ll make sure Jacques gets punished for his bullying.’

‘Why? You can do that yourself! My dad will listen to you.’

Tyler scoffed. He turned the gun away from d’Artagnan. 

‘You can’t be that naïve. Just promise me. As my friend, promise me that.’

‘I promise.’

‘Thank you. Goodbye, d’Artagnan.’

At the same moment that the door to the library was opened, a single gunshot filled the room.

*****

Treville watched anxiously as officers disappeared into the school. He couldn’t show it, but he was worried. When he had found out that d’Artagnan was one of the people who hadn’t gotten outside, Treville had been forced to call on every single ounce of self-control that he had. He knew that he could not be one of the officers to enter the school, for the simple reason that he couldn’t guarantee to make rational decisions. It was better if he called the shots outside and oversaw everything there. 

He suddenly heard shouting coming from the crowd. Treville turned his head just in time to see Athos, Porthos and Aramis storming through the crowd towards him. Behind them was another, older man.   
His sons skidded to a halt by his side. 

‘Where’s d’Artagnan?’ came the frantic question. 

Treville looked away, for just a second and that was all the three men needed. The next moment, they tried to storm past him into the school. It took Treville and a few other officers to hold them back. 

‘Let go!’ Porthos shouted. 

‘We have to go in there!’ Aramis screamed. 

‘Please dad, it’s our brother!’ Athos pleaded. 

‘You can’t go in there, guns blazing. It would only endanger d’Artagnan even more! Let my officers do their job.’

A gunshot startled them all. In the crowd, people started sobbing. Treville grabbed his shoulder mic when it crackled to life. 

‘The school is secure. We need a medic in here, asap.’

Before anyone could stop him, Aramis sprinted into the school. 

*****

D’Artagnan stared at the pool of blood. Everything around him was muted. His surroundings were a blur, except for the body on the ground. Tyler’s eyes were open and the lifeless look in them came as a punch to the gut. His friend was dead. Because he couldn’t take the bullying any more. 

He vaguely registered someone talking to him. D’Artagnan didn’t understand why. Surely, it was more important that someone took care of Tyler? Didn’t they see the body lying on the ground? The death that he was responsible for. He should have done more, should have stopped his friend from shooting himself. 

Suddenly, he was wrapped up in a warm embrace. The smell of flowers filled his nose. Red curls came into focus. He heard sobs coming from the person in his arms. Subconsciously, d’Artagnan started rubbing circles on their back. He knew he had to say something, but he didn’t know what. It couldn’t be more important than the fact that Tyler was dead. 

A childish need overcame d’Artagnan. He wanted his dad and his brothers. He didn’t want to see the body anymore. Why couldn’t it disappear? It had to go away. His brothers would make it disappear, so why weren’t they here yet? 

‘Because you send them away,’ a voice whispered. ‘You told them that you hate them. Your brothers won’t come.’

*****

Constance sobbed into d’Artagnan’s chest. That stupid idiot! He stood in front of a gun for her. He was willing to die, so she could live. Even though she had neglected their friendship, d’Artagnan still looked out for her. She had hurt him so much this last year and still he would willingly take a bullet for her. 

Gentle hands pulled Constance away from d’Artagnan. A female officer smiled at her and directed her towards the exit. 

‘Try not to look too much around. Just focus on me.’

An arm slipped around her shoulders. She looked to her right, in the hope that it was d’Artagnan. When she saw Jacques instead, anger filled her once more. How dare he try to comfort her? He used her as a shield, so that he wouldn’t die. Another sob escaped her and Jacques pulled her closer. A wave of tiredness hit her. She didn’t have the energy to push him away. She just wanted to go home. 

A man flew past her, only to be stopped by the female officer that was escorting her out. They exchanged some words and the man nodded briefly at Constance before running towards the library. She realised that she knew him. He was one of d’Artagnan’s older brothers. 

When they stepped outside, Constance was swept into a desperate hug from her mother. She heard her father thank Jacques for protecting her. Constance frowned. That wasn’t right. He had pushed her in front of him, not behind him like d’Artagnan had. Jacques didn’t deserve to be rewarded. 

*****

Aramis stormed into the library. The smell of gun smoke and blood hung heavily in the air. Even though he had smelled it before, it still made him gag. The room was filled with officers and behind him, paramedics entered. Aramis looked around, trying to find his younger brother. He hoped beyond hope that they didn’t need a paramedic for d’Artagnan. 

An officer appeared in front of him. After being scolded for entering a crime scene without permission, the man led him towards d’Artagnan. The teenager was standing in front of the body, arms hanging limply by his side. He seemed unable to look away. 

Without hesitation, Aramis stepped forward and blocked d’Artagnan’s view. Carefully, he put a hand on the back of the boy’s head. 

‘It’s alright, d’Art, it’s over now. Look at me.’

D’Artagnan blinked and turned tearful eyes towards his brother. 

‘Aramis?’

His voice wasn’t more than a whisper, but it was full with disbelief and fear. One, two seconds, nothing happened. Then, a small sob came from d’Artagnan, followed by another. Suddenly, the boy fell forward, into Aramis’ arms. 

‘Sssh, it’s alright, hermanito, I’m here. You’re safe now.’

‘I’m sorry,’ d’Artagnan sobbed. ‘I’m so sorry. Please don’t leave.’

‘I won’t. I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere.’

*****

The relief that filled Treville, Athos and Porthos when Aramis came outside with d’Artagnan was so strong that it nearly send them to their knees. Instead, they ran towards them and pulled their youngest into a hug. D’Artagnan clung to them, shaking and sobbing. 

It took a long while for d’Artagnan to calm down. He refused to let go of his family. Eventually, Treville had to extract himself, since he still had some work to do. He instructed his sons to go home and promised that he would be there as soon as he could. 

When they arrived at home, d’Artagnan was quiet and subdued. He didn’t react to anything and allowed himself to be placed on the couch. Aramis put a blanket around the teenager while Athos went to the kitchen to make some hot chocolate. For a while, the four brothers just sat in the living room. Athos had decided they should wait until d’Artagnan was ready to tell them what had happened. Pushing the boy for information wouldn’t help anyone. 

Treville came home about an hour later. After putting away his stuff, he sat down next to his youngest son. After studying d’Artagnan for a few seconds, he whistled softly. Ethan came bounding into the room and didn’t even spare a glance at the others before jumping into d’Artagnan’s lap. Treville grabbed the mug of hot chocolate just in time. 

Ethan licked d’Artagnan’s face and whined. He could feel that his youngest master was sad and he didn’t want that. So Ethan tried to cheer him up. 

D’Artagnan snivelled and wrapped his arms around his dog, burying his face into the soft fur. He felt his dad place a comforting hand on his back. 

‘Son, I know this is hard, but you have to let it out. It’s better to talk about it, than letting it fester. Tell us what happened.’

Taking a deep breath, d’Artagnan nodded. He still kept his arms wrapped around Ethan. 

‘I was in the library, working on Calculus. Lucie de Foix came to me for help, so I helped her solve some problems. Then….then gunshots came from the hallway. I found a hiding place for Lucie and myself. When the shooter came into the library, it turned out to be Tyler. He said that he wouldn’t shoot me. After he left, I told Lucie to text you, dad, and then I went after Tyler. H-he was going to shoot Constance. I couldn’t let him do that.’

D’Artagnan’s breath hitched. 

‘I was scared. I thought I was going to die, without seeing my dad or brothers one last time.’

Suddenly, he looked up and towards his brothers. Tears glistened in his eyes. 

‘I’m sorry, about everything. I never meant what I said when you left. I just didn’t want you to go. I was afraid that you would die in some faraway land and I wouldn’t have brothers anymore. You said that you want to make this world safe for me and all the other innocents. But I want you home!’

At the last sentence, d’Artagnan’s voice broke. Tears streamed from his eyes and he hid his face in Ethan’s fur again, sobs shaking his body. Athos was the first to shoot forward and pull his youngest brother close, Porthos and Aramis following suit. 

*****

Athos stared at the ceiling. He had come scarily close to losing his brother today. All because some boy couldn’t handle the bullying anymore. What kind of excuse was that? How did being bullied justify shooting people? 

A soft sigh from his right made him turn onto his side. D’Artagnan was staring at him, Ethan curled up at his feet. There was a glimmer in those brown eyes, one that told Athos that his little brother couldn’t sleep. Without a word, Athos got up and pushed his bed against d’Artagnan’s. When he got back in bed, d’Artagnan smiled at him. 

‘What’s keeping you up, petit frère?’

D’Artagnan sighed. 

‘Everything that happened today. I feel like I should have done something. Tyler was my friend, I should have seen that he was struggling. I should have helped him.’

‘Not everyone who needs help, want to be helped. Besides, you had your own problems.’

‘Yeah, but…’

‘But nothing. You’ve stood up for Tyler whenever you could. It’s not your fault that he choose to shoot people.’

‘I can’t forgive him for that. I don’t think I want to. Does that make me a bad person?’

‘No. This is not something that you can easily forgive. I don’t know if you’ll ever be able to. I know I won’t. There’s nothing in this world that justifies shooting innocent people.’

‘Why did he even think this was the way to make those bullies pay? How does it solve anything?’

‘We’ll never know that. But don’t beat yourself up over it. This is something that you will never have the answer to.’

*****

A few days after the shooting, the doorbell rang. Porthos went to open it and was surprised to see General de Foix.

‘Sir, what are you doing here?’

The older man nodded at him. 

‘Can I come in for a moment? I wish to speak to your youngest brother.’

A few minutes later, they were all seated in the living room. General de Foix turned towards d’Artagnan, who was eyeing him nervously. 

‘My sister, Lucie, told me you protected her. You shielded her so that the shooter wouldn’t know she was there. I want to thank you for that. Lucie is the only person in this world I have left and I don’t know what I would do if I lost her. I’m in your debt.’

D’Artagnan looked down and fidgeted slightly. 

‘There’s no need for that. Anyone else would have done the same thing.’

‘I doubt that, boy. I want to repay you. I know how close you are to your brothers and I’m sure you miss them. So if you want, I can pull some strings, extend their leave.’

‘Thank you, sir. I’d like that.’

*****

Constance took a deep breath as she stood in front of d’Artagnan’s house. It had been a few weeks since the shooting and the school had been closed for a time, so everything could be fixed. She hadn’t seen d’Artagnan since that terrible day. Since he had so bravely stepped in between her and the gun. 

Filled with nerves, she stepped onto the porch and knocked on the door. A few moments later, d’Artagnan’s father appeared in the doorway. 

‘Hello, Mr. Treville. Is d’Artagnan home?’

‘He’s in the backyard with his brothers. Do you want to come in?’

She nodded and entered. Looking around the hallway while d’Artagnan’s father went to the backyard, Constance realised she hadn’t been here for a long time. The last time had been a few days shy of her sixteenth birthday. A bark pulled her out of her musings and she smiled when she saw Ethan looking up at her, waggling his tail happily. 

She crouched down and scratched him behind his ears. 

‘Oh, Ethan, look at you. Dear Lord, you've grown.’

Another happy bark came from Ethan and he licked her hand. 

‘He’s two years old now. He stopped growing not too long ago.’

Constance looked up and saw d’Artagnan leaning against the wall. He studied her curiously. She did the same and realised for the first time that he had changed. He was no longer the small, shy kid she had met in freshman year. He had finally hit a growth spurt, it seemed and was now at least 5.9 ft. His brown eyes shone with honesty and mischief. The most important change though, was that he carried himself with more confidence now. 

He had gotten handsome too. He had been cute but that had transformed into handsomeness. How she hadn’t noticed all of this earlier, Constance didn’t know. Perhaps it was the fact that they had drifted apart. 

A whine came from Ethan, distracting both teenagers. D’Artagnan smiled at her and scratched his neck. 

‘Ehm, do you wanna go upstairs or something? Or aren’t you planning to stay?’

‘I want to talk. In private, if that’s possible?’

‘No problem. We can go to my room.’

Once they were upstairs and sitting opposite of each other, an awkward silence commenced. Constance was the first to break it. 

‘I want to thank you. You saved my life, even though you didn’t have to. So, thank you.’

D’Artagnan looked away. 

‘You don’t have to thank me for that. You’re my best friend, I will always defend you.’

That broke some sort of barrier within Constance. 

‘Why? I mean, ever since Jacques and I got serious, you and I started to drift apart. How can you still think of me as your best friend?’

‘Because I love you.’

The soft declaration took both of them by surprise. Suddenly, d’Artagnan look at her fiercely, fire burning in his eyes. 

‘I know that you’re dating Jacques, but that shooting made me realise something. I can’t keep carrying this secret. I’ve been in love with you ever since I first saw you. And I thought that you might return my feelings, until you went out with Jacques. That day he asked you out in freshman year, was the day I was planning on telling you.’

‘So, t-that bracelet…’

‘Wasn’t meant as a friendship bracelet. I said it was because I didn’t want to ruin your happiness.’

Constance scoffed. 

‘That happiness was short lived, trust me. Jacques has been a jerk since sophomore year. It just took me a long time to see it. You know what they say, love makes blind. I would never ask anyone to die for me, but he tried to use me as a shield. And then he dared telling my parents that he was the one who saved me. I broke up with him two days after the shooting.’

‘You did?’

She nodded. D’Artagnan felt happy but he didn’t dare get his hopes up. The fact that she broke up with Jacques didn’t mean she liked him. Again, silence reigned the room. After a while, Constance stood up. 

‘Well, thank you again. I should probably go home now.’

‘Wait!’

D’Artagnan grabbed her hand and pulled her back. Then, mustering all the courage he possessed, he kissed her. At first, Constance made a surprised noise but then she kissed back. When they broke apart, d’Artagnan looked at her nervously. 

‘If you think I’m taking advantage of you or anything, I’m not. I mean, I know the shooting was terrible and you’re probably still upset, I know I am, but I really do like you. But I understand if you don’t want to, I don’t mean to pressure you into anything or something, but…’

Constance slapped him, effectively stopping his rant. 

‘You’re an idiot. Yes, I’m still upset about the shooting, but I’m dealing. But I want this. I like you, I really do. And I’d love for you to be my boyfriend.’

‘You do?’

Constance huffed and rolled her eyes. 

‘No, I’m just saying it for thrills. Of course I do.’

D’Artagnan beamed at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you know that I'm not trying to make light of high-school shootings and suicides. They are horrible and I wish they never happened. My truest apologies if I've offended anyone with this chapter. I ended this with a d'Artagnan/Constance moment because I wanted a happy ending.


	31. Paradise by the dashboard light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I hope you're all doing okay, what with the whole corona virus. I was originally going to wait until April 19 to update the last 6 chapters, but I figured that it would be nice to give you something to read while you're stuck in quarantine. However, I do intend to wait with posting the final chapter until April 19, because that's the aniversary of this fanfic (I know, not on this site, but I originaly posted it on FF and the first chapter was posted in 2017, on April 19). Anyways, I hope you'll enjoy these chapters. 
> 
> Ages: Athos is 28, Porthos 26, Aramis 24 and d'Artagnan 18.

Back when all of the boys still lived at home, mornings had always been particularly hectic in the Treville household. At 6 am, the alarms of the boys would ring. Most of the time, Athos was the only one to actually get up then, thus having the bathroom for himself. D’Artagnan would usually emerge from his bed, minutes after Athos finished. Depending on the day, Porthos and Aramis would or wouldn’t sleep through their alarm, but they were always the last ones to get the bathroom.

Downstairs, Treville would be busy making lunch as well as breakfast. The boys would rush in and out of the kitchen, always forgetting something and remembering it at the last minute. It was very rare for breakfast to be eaten at the table. It was usually something reserved for the weekends. At 7.30, Athos would check his schoolbag, as well as d’Artagnan’s. Then, after grabbing their lunch and saying goodbye to their dad, they would all pile into Athos’ car and go to their respective schools. Or, in the years before Athos had his license, Treville would drop the oldest two off at the bus stop and drive Aramis and d’Artagnan to school on his way to work.

Nowadays, with only d’Artagnan still living at home, mornings were very peaceful. Breakfast actually took place at the table. The weird thing was that Treville actually missed the managed chaos. With four boys under his roof, it was never quiet, something he rather enjoyed. But as his sons got older and went to college, the household became more quiet. D’Artagnan was the only one still living at home, but not for long. The boy was graduating this year and had already applied to colleges.

Sometimes, it scared Treville. Of course he wanted his sons to go to college, but he did not look forward to being alone. When Alexa had still been alive, it never troubled him, for he knew that she would always be by his side. But his beautiful wife had been gone for 19 years now. God, had it really been that long already?

It was strange. Of course he knew time had passed, he only had to look at the pictures in his living room. As the years flew by, you could see the boys growing in the pictures. They were no longer little kids who needed his help with everything. Three of them were adults now and the youngest would soon be one as well. The house would be empty and quiet. 

* * *

Aramis had always wanted to be a father. It was one of the few things in his life that had never changed. He saw how much joy children brought to their parents. When he was a little kid, his _papá_ told him that having children was a gift from God.

When he met Porthos and heard about the abusive foster homes he had been in, Aramis had been appalled by the fact that people did that to children that were trusted into their care. But that had been nothing compared to the disgust he had felt when Athos arrived. Back then and even now, 19 years later, he still didn’t understand how someone could hurt their own flesh and blood. Their own gift from God.

Porthos had never been sure if he ever wanted to have children. He still didn’t know. His mom had always said he was the best thing that ever happened to her, but Porthos doubted it. Deep down, he had always wondered if her life would have been happier if she never had him. Would she still be alive? Maybe have a respectable job, a nice house and a loving husband. Perhaps her first child would have been preparing to go to college, like d’Artagnan was now.

Porthos loved his mother and he never allowed anyone to speak ill of her. He admired her strength and perseverance. How she willingly took even the most dubious of jobs, just to feed her son and keep a roof over his head. Sometimes, Porthos would hear her cry, during the darkest parts of the night, when she thought he was asleep. But as soon as the sun rose, her strong will was back and her sadness pushed away. To Porthos, she was one of the most admirable people to ever exist.

Athos was one hundred percent certain that he didn’t want children. He was no father figure and could never be one, even though his younger brothers would disagree. He had never understood how Treville did it all. Yes, the man had planned on having children but that was with his wife. But even though she died a month after they’d adopted Aramis, he still took in three more boys. Treville didn’t lose himself to alcohol and grief. He found strength in Aramis’ love for him and focussed on helping the boy deal with losing his adoptive mother. And in that process, Treville was healed as well.

It was so different from Athos’ biological father. Mr. de la Fere had always been a very strict man. His wife loved him, but he never seemed to return it. To Athos, the man had always seem loveless. Although, he had very vague memories of his father playing with him when he was very young. Which was why Athos had always tried to love his father. Then his mother and Thomas died and his father turned to alcohol. After that, Athos realised he would never be able to love his biological father. And he knew that he would never want children. If he turned out to be just like Mr. de la Fere, he would abuse them and he would never be able to live with himself. No, he rather stuck to the role of older brother and eventually, loving uncle. That he could do.

* * *

Anne stared in shock at the two pink lines. On the floor were four more tests, all with the same positive result. This couldn’t be real! She was only 24, she hadn’t planned for this to happen yet. She was supposed to have a career first and be married to Aramis.

She gasped. Aramis! What would he say? Would he be happy, upset? Anne slid down onto the floor, the back of her head resting against the wall. Instinctively, she placed her hands on her stomach and a breathy laugh escaped her. She was pregnant! There was a child growing inside of her.

Tears prickled the back of her eyes. Was she even ready to be a mother? And how was she even going to do this? Aramis was still in the army. He couldn’t be here to support her and share her excitement. He wasn’t here to help her decide what she should do.

The tears now dripped down her face. Anne didn’t know if they were tears of happiness or sadness. Maybe a bit of both. She had to tell Aramis, before she did anything else. He deserved to be the first person to know. He was the child’s father after all.

* * *

Setting up the video call had been easier said than done. Anne didn’t want to tell something this important via e-mail, so instead she instructed Aramis to set up a call as soon as possible. It took a few days, since he had been on a mission, but here her boyfriend finally was, staring at her worriedly through the screen.

‘Anne, what happened? Are you hurt, did something happen to your family?’

‘No Aramis, nothing of the sort. But there is something I have to tell you and it’s quite urgent.’

Aramis’ face lit up.

‘Did you get promoted? I knew it, you are amazing love!’

Anne let out a nervous laugh.

‘Not quite. In fact, I don’t think a promotion of any form is in my near future.’

She took a deep breath. Maybe it would be better to just say it in one go.

‘Aramis, I’m pregnant.’

Silence. If she hadn’t been so worried, Anne would’ve laughed. For the first time since she’d known him, Aramis was speechless. He simply gaped at her, no sound coming from his lips. As the silence stretched on, Anne feared the worst. Perhaps Aramis didn’t want the child. Perhaps he’d tell her to get rid of it. Tears flooded her eyes. She could never do that. This life inside of her, her flesh and blood, she could never get rid of it. Already, she loved her child so much.

‘Please, Aramis,’ Anne begged. ‘Say something. Aren’t you happy? We’re having a child.’

Still he didn’t say anything, just stared at her. A sob escaped Anne. She had been wrong, Aramis didn’t want the child. He would tell her to have an abortion or leave her.

‘I’m not having an abortion,’ she told him vehemently. ‘I’m not killing our child.’

Her words shook Aramis out of his shock. He took in his girlfriend’s tears and mentally kicked himself for not saying something. His hand touched the screen, wishing he could reach through and hold her. A laugh escaped him.

‘Why would I want you to have an abortion? You’re pregnant, you carry our child! This is the happiest day of my life! I’m going to be a father!’

Anne sighed in relief. She rubbed her eyes, trying to get rid of the tears. Aramis did want the child!

‘How long have you known?’

‘I started to suspect something when I missed my period. I’m six weeks pregnant.’

‘Six weeks already! Anne, that’s amazing! I love you both so much, you and our child.’

Suddenly, his smile disappeared. The intensity with which he looked at her, made Anne shiver.

‘Marry me, Anne.’

* * *

**14 weeks pregnant**

Anne smiled as she stepped into Treville’s house. She was still amazed at her future father-in-law’s support. He had been a rock for her these past weeks, together with Constance. According to Aramis, when he had told Treville that Anne was pregnant, the man had been utterly happy. Of course, he had been a bit shocked first but he had swiftly moved onto happiness.

After that, Anne had frequently visited him. To her immense sadness, Aramis could not get leave for at least another month. But Treville had proved to be a great support. And when she had confided in him about her hesitance to marry Aramis, he had known exactly how to comfort her.

_‘Anne,’ he said. ‘Why are you hesitant? I thought you wanted to be with Aramis?’_

_She had sighed._

_‘I did. I still do. But what if he’s only asking because I’m pregnant? I don’t want him to marry me because I am expecting a child. I want to him to propose because he loves me.’_

_Treville had laughed at that._

_‘My dear girl, you do not have to worry about that. Aramis has been planning to propose to you for a long time. In fact, I can prove it if you want to.’_

_‘How?’_

_Treville stood up then, leaving the room. After a few minutes he reappeared, a small box in his hand. He handed it to her. Anne had opened it and gasped. Inside, was a silver band with a single sapphire set into the middle. She looked back at Treville, whose eyes held a mix of sadness and happiness._

_‘That is the ring I proposed with to my wife. Alexa was born in September, so I decided to use her birthstone. She always loved the colour. Aramis asked me a few months ago if he could use it as an engagement ring for you.’_

_‘I can’t take this. It belongs to you.’_

_She tried to give it back, but Treville grasped her hand and smiled at her._

_‘If I wanted to keep it, I would have told Aramis so. But this ring should not be gathering dust. I know for a fact that Alexa would love for her son’s wife to have her engagement ring. Keep it, Anne.’_

She had been honoured by the gift and it had reassured her that Aramis had long been planning to propose. He had simply done it earlier than he planned.

* * *

**20 weeks pregnant**

Aramis couldn’t have been happier. He was sitting on the couch in his dad’s home, arm wrapped around his fiancé and surrounded by his family. Athos and Porthos were seated on the opposite couch and d’Artagnan was sitting next to Anne and Aramis, Constance in his lap.

Treville entered the living room with a tray filled with mugs. He placed the tray on the coffee table and handed everyone a mug. Sitting down next to Athos, he smiled at his son and future daughter-in-law.

‘So,’ he said. ‘Have you come up with a name for the baby yet?’

‘We’re not sure yet.’ Aramis answered. ‘But we have agreed that if it’s a boy, we will name him after my biological father. The man sacrificed his life to save me and I want to honour him.’

‘And if it’s a girl,’ Anne said. ‘We want to name her after our mothers. They were both amazing women and deserve to be remembered.’

Aramis beamed at her and placed a soft kiss on the top of her head. Next to them, d’Artagnan made a gagging noise.

‘Do you have to do that? You’re not alone, in case you didn’t notice.’

Athos huffed at that.

‘Pot, meet kettle. You have your girlfriend in your lap.’

The rest of them laughed at that and d’Artagnan looked down, properly chastised. Constance reached over and grasped Anne’s hand, giving her friend a smile.

‘Whatever the gender, I’m certain your child will be amazing. With you as its’ parents, it’s practically set in stone.’

‘Let’s just hope the child will have Anne’s looks.’ Porthos piped up. ‘I can’t bear to think how much the child will be tormented if he or she takes after Aramis.’

Aramis made an indignant sound and launched a pillow at his brother. The older man dodged with ease and smirked back.

‘Are you hoping for a specific gender?’ Athos asked.

‘To me, it doesn’t matter. As long its’ healthy, I’m happy.’

‘I agree with Anne. Although I would love to have a son.’

* * *

**28 weeks pregnant**

Anne looked at the shop as Constance parked the car. She had let herself be convinced by the younger girl to shop for baby clothes. At first, it had seemed like a great idea, but now that they were here, Anne wasn’t so sure.

After 30 minutes of walking around the shop, Constance was becoming worried about her friend. So far, Anne had refused to put anything in their basket. The woman seemed nervous about something. When Anne refused to even look at the onesie in Constance’s hands, she decided to speak up.

‘Okay, what’s wrong? I thought you wanted to go shopping.’

Anne looked away from her.

‘I did. But now that we’re here, I don’t think it’s a good idea. I’m afraid to buy anything.’

Constance put an arm around her friend.

‘What’s so scary? You can tell me, I’m your friend.’

Anne took a deep breath, tears pricking her eyes.

‘Did you know Aramis’ adoptive mother has been pregnant three times before they adopted Aramis? And each time, she lost her child. What if I lose mine too? I don’t want to buy clothes for a baby that I might never have.’

Constance sighed. She wish she could relate but she had never been pregnant before, nor did she know anyone who had miscarriages. How was she to comfort Anne if she didn’t have any experience in the matter. In the end, Constance simply hugged Anne.

‘I understand that. But don’t you want to enjoy your pregnancy? Buying clothes won’t influence anything. And I’m certain you won’t lose your child. The doctor said the baby is strong, didn’t she?’

A small chuckle escaped Anne.

‘Strong like his father.’

‘See, that’s exactly what I mean. Your child has two very strong parents, I’m certain you will get to experience the joy of parenthood.’

‘It’s just so hard. You and Treville have been amazing, as have my siblings, but I miss Aramis. I wish he was here with me. What if he dies in the army?’

‘He won’t,’ Constance stated confidently. ‘Especially now that he has a child to return to. You know how much he wants to be a father. And even in the unlikely case that Aramis dies, we both know your child won’t be fatherless. Mr. Treville and Athos, Porthos and d’Artagnan will help you raise your child. They will treat it as if it were their own. So stop worrying and start enjoying the fact that you’re going to be a mother.’

Anne hugged her close for a moment, before letting Constance go and looking her in the eye.

‘Thank you, Constance. I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t have you as my friend.’

* * *

**34 weeks pregnant**

Treville smiled as he watched Constance buzzing around, making sure everything was in place for the baby shower. He was still amazed at the friendship that had blossomed between Anne and Constance. You would never be able to tell that there was an age difference of six years between the two.

When Constance had first approached him for the baby shower, he had immediately volunteered his house for it. Then he had sat back and watched Constance arrange everything. That girl was a great planner. Everything was done in time and now the party could commence.

Anne smiled as she watched Constance have d’Artagnan pile up all the gifts. The sheer amount amazed her. As did the baby shower. For someone who had no experience with pregnancies, Constance sure knew what she was doing. How she managed to arrange it all, as well as studying for her finals, Anne had no idea.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Treville disappearing into the hallway. She was so grateful to that man. He was so supportive and always ready to help. He had even turned his guestroom into a bedroom for Aramis and Anne. Of course, they had protested against it, but Treville had told them that it was only temporarily. The moment they could get their own place, it would be a guestroom again. Still they had argued. It was only when Treville explained that he didn’t want Anne to be on her own during the pregnancy that they had conceded.

And Anne had to admit, she really preferred living with Treville and d’Artagnan over living in her own little flat. It was barely big enough for her, let alone a family. At Treville’s place, they would have room. As soon as the baby was born, they would look into getting their own place.

‘If I can have your attention!’

Constance’s voice made her look up. The girl had a camera in her hand. D’Artagnan had apparently vanished from the room, Anne noted. 

‘It is time for Anne to open the presents. Anne, stay where you are. Every guest will bring their present to you.’

There was a lot of baby stuff and Anne appreciated all of them. Suddenly, Treville and d’Artagnan appeared, carrying something between them. They gently set it on the ground before Anne. D’Artagnan walked over to Constance and put his arm around her.

Anne looked at the thing. It had been carefully covered with a big cloth. Treville pulled the cloth away and Anne covered her mouth, tears already forming in her eyes.

In front of her stood a beautiful wooden crib. Little figures had been carved on the sides and a moon had been carved into the headboard. She touched it reverently and noticed how smooth it was.

‘Where did you get this?’

Treville smiled at her. It was the same smile he had worn when he gave her his wife’s engagement ring.

‘When Alexa first became pregnant, we decided that we wanted to build the crib ourselves. I build it and she decorated it. Only, we never got to use it. All this time, it has been gathering dust in my storage. But now that my son is going to have a child, I would like nothing more than to see my first grandchild sleep in the crib I build with Alexa.’

Tears streamed down Anne’s face as she leaned forward and hugged Treville.

‘Thank you so much. Of course we will use it. It’s truly beautiful, I love it.’

* * *

**In labour**

Aramis was panicking. Never had he been more frantic than now. Thanks to General de Foix, he was able to be on leave during his baby’s due date. This morning, when Anne informed him that her waters had broken, Aramis had gathered everything they would need and jumped into the car. He had already pulled out of the driveway before he realised that he had forgotten Anne. When he rushed back inside, she had not been amused.

They had arrived at the hospital in record time. Aramis had been afraid that the baby would come that very minute, but the doctor had brought him and Anne to a room and explained to him that they would have to wait. There wasn’t enough dilation yet.

Constance looked around the waiting room anxiously. She hoped Anne was doing okay. Certainly the doctors could handle it, but wasn’t giving birth supposed to be the worst pain in the world? An arm around her shoulders distracted her from her thoughts.

‘Would you relax?’ d’Artagnan whispered. ‘I can practically see the cogs turning in your head. I’m sure that Anne is fine.’

‘What do you know about it? My friend is going to experience the worst pain in the world and you’re telling me to relax?’

‘Yes. Look, Aramis and the doctors will take good care of her. Besides, there’s nothing you and I can do about it right now. And don’t forget, we’re probably in for a long wait. Dad told me that giving birth can last between 4 and 8 hours.’

* * *

Dear God, this hurt! They weren’t lying when they said giving birth was the worst pain. Beside her, she felt Aramis holding her hand.

‘You’re doing great, just keep going.’

Anne glared at him.

‘I’m never letting you do this to me again, do you hear me?! You bastard, look what you’ve done to me! Oh God, it hurts!’

‘I know baby, I know. You’re almost there.’

‘I can see the head!’ the obstetrician announced. ‘Keep pushing!’

‘Keep going Anne, you’re almost there. Our child is almost here.’

* * *

Aramis smiled as he looked at Anne. She was pale and sweaty, her blond hair sticking to her forehead. But a smile brightened her face as she held their child.

‘Look Aramis, our baby.’

‘What is it?’

‘It’s a healthy boy,’ said the obstetrician. ‘Congratulations.’

Aramis knelt down next Anne’s bed, softly stroking his son’s face.

‘We have a son, Anne. He’s beautiful, just like you.’

A knock sounded on the door.

‘Come in,’ Aramis said.

Treville appeared, with Aramis’ brothers and Constance in tow. Anne smiled and proudly showed them the baby. Treville hugged Aramis and the younger man was surprised to see tears in his father’s eyes.

‘Your mother would be so proud.’ Treville whispered.

Aramis felt his own eyes tearing up and discreetly rubbed his face.

‘Thanks dad.’

D’Artagnan’s voice suddenly piped up, filled with wonder.

‘Can I hold him?’

‘Of course. Just be really careful.’

D’Artagnan did as instructed. He smiled at his nephew and leaned down, whispering something into the child’s ear.

‘Hey, don’t you dare try tell my son to be mischievous.’ Aramis said.

Porthos chuckled.

‘Don’t worry. The pup knows that the child will be a hellion regardless of what he tells him. It’s your offspring after all.’

‘What’s his name?’ Athos asked.

Anne and Aramis looked at each other and smiled.

‘Henrique Juan. Juan is for my biological father. But we’ll call our son Henry for short.’


	32. Save me 'cause I'm falling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter lightly deals with alcoholism. With lightly, I mean that it's mentioned and talked about, but it's not meant to be the main topic.   
> Ages: Athos is 30, Porthos 28, Aramis 26 and d'Artagnan 19, nearing 20.

Aramis smiled as he listened to his son. Henry was in the backseat of the car, babbling happily to himself. Through the long car ride, the toddler had been a perfect angel. After Aramis parked the car in front of the apartment building, he turned to face his son.

‘Now, _hijo_ , are you ready to stay with Uncle Athos?’

‘Uncle Athos!’

Aramis smiled.

‘Good boy. Now remember, Uncle Athos doesn’t speak Spanish, so no using Spanish words. Understood?’

Henry nodded, but Aramis wasn’t sure whether the child truly understood. Normally, it wouldn’t be a problem, since d’Artagnan could translate for Athos. But, the whole reason for leaving Henry with Aramis’ eldest brother for the day, was because Aramis had to help d’Artagnan prepare for his midterms. The 19-year old had called him in the middle of the night and proceeded to have a full mental breakdown. Aramis had promised to visit and help him study. Since Anne was in Washington D.C. and their dad had to work, Aramis had asked if he could leave Henry with Athos.

Henry bounced excitedly in his car seat, making it harder for Aramis to get him out. Eventually, though, he managed it and placed his son securely on his hip. A bag with some of Henry’s stuff ended up in his other hand, which made for a very interesting challenge when Aramis attempted the stairs. Normally he would have taken the elevator, but Athos texted him yesterday and informed that the elevator had broken down.

Finally upstairs, Aramis simply kicked the door. It swung open after only a moment, revealing Athos, clearly fresh from the shower. He took the bag from Aramis without a word and waved at Henry, before gesturing for them to come inside. Athos held a finger against his lips, signalling them to be quiet.

Aramis frowned but complied. He followed Athos into the living room and grinned at the scene that met him there.

D’Artagnan was slumped in one of the chairs, clearly asleep. An empty milk bottle hung from his left hand. On his chest, Athos’ one-year old son was nestled, d’Artagnan’s right arm wrapped loosely around the boy.

Athos smiled and led Aramis into the kitchen, closing the door behind them. He took Henry from him, who squealed and wrapped his arms around Athos’ neck.

‘I see you got Thomas a new bed?’

Athos leaned against the counter, Henry hanging of him like a monkey.

‘You could say that. Honestly, I’m glad you offered to help d’Artagnan out. You are the only one of us who has taken subjects similar to the pup in high-school.’

Aramis scoffed.

‘Hardly. He’s the only one of us to have done Multivariable Calculus. I still don’t understand why he took that subject.’

‘I still don’t understand why he choose to study Computer Science and Engineering. You should try reading his books, I can’t make heads or tails of it.’

Their conversation was interrupted when Henry began grumbling, clearly upset that the attention wasn’t focussed on him. Athos laughed and set the boy down.

‘Why don’t we go and wake Uncle d’Artagnan? Then we can kick him and your daddy out of the house while we have some fun.’

Henry cheered and then giggled when Aramis send Athos an overexaggerated glare.

* * *

Athos smiled as he watched Henry making funny faces at Thomas, the baby squealing with delight. If you had asked Athos two years ago what his plans for the future were, having children would never have been part of it. Yet here he was, a single father to a one-year old son.

He was still eternally grateful that d’Artagnan lived with them, although he felt like it wasn’t fair to the boy. At almost 20 years old, the youngest brother would probably have loved nothing more than living in the dorms of MIT, hanging out with friends and going to parties without having anyone get on his case about it. Instead, d’Artagnan lived with his oldest brother and helped take care of his nephew, as well as studying at MIT.

Sometimes, Athos wondered if it wasn’t too much for his little brother. He felt especially guilty at times like this, when d’Artagnan was busy with his midterms and nearly died of stress. Athos had suggested multiple times that d’Artagnan moved into the dorms, but the boy always refused. Deep down, Athos knew the reason behind it. He knew that d’Artagnan didn’t trust him not to fall back into old habits. And honestly, Athos didn’t blame him.

Still, the load of Athos’ problems shouldn’t fall on d’Artagnan’s shoulders. The youngest brother deserved his own life, to get stupidly drunk and then feel terrible next morning, only to repeat the same mistake a week later. He deserved to go to parties and be on his own for the first time.

* * *

Aramis and d’Artagnan returned around dinner time, the former looking bored and the latter relaxed. Henry shouted in excitement and danced around his father and youngest uncle. D’Artagnan laughed and swept the toddler up in his arms, listening to the boy as he told about everything he’d done that day.

Aramis followed them into the kitchen, where Athos had just finished feeding Thomas. The baby was already yawning, eyes drooping. Athos looked up at their entrance.

‘I’m going to put Thomas to bed and then I’ll get started on dinner.’

‘I’ll handle Thomas,’ d’Artagnan piped up. ‘You go make dinner.’

Before Athos could protest, d’Artagnan had already settled the baby on his other hip, Henry bouncing in excitement when his uncle promised he could help put his cousin to bed.

Aramis sat down heavily at the dinner table and watched Athos get started with preparing dinner. Silence lasted for about 5 minutes, then Aramis spoke up.

‘You’re right, I didn’t understand most of his books either.’

Athos laughed in response.

‘I knew you wouldn’t. It’s ridiculously complicated. I thought Economics was hard.’

Aramis huffed.

‘Don’t kid yourself, you were great at everything business related. Your problem was Geometry.’

‘It still is. I dread the day when Thomas is old enough to have homework.’

‘I wouldn’t worry about that if I were you. After all, you have a mathematical wizard living in your house.’

Athos fell silent and turned away.

‘He shouldn’t be here.’

Aramis frowned.

‘What are you talking about? I thought you liked having the pup here.’

‘I did….I mean, I do. But he’s only nineteen, ‘Mis. He shouldn’t be living in an apartment with his oldest brother, helping to care for a baby that isn’t his.’

‘But you moved here for him, didn’t you?’

‘I moved here because of a good job offer and because I figured someone should keep an eye on him. You know how trouble prone the pup is. But I never intended for him to move in with me.’

‘Athos, that was his choice. You needed help.’

The older man turned around, glaring fiercely at Aramis.

‘But not his, dammit! I should have gone to dad or Porthos. Instead, I let it get so out of hand that my kid brother decided that he should move in with me because he didn’t trust me to take care of myself! Do you know that he still doesn’t allow any alcohol in the house? He refuses to go to parties because he wants to make sure that Thomas and I are taken care of! That is not how it’s supposed to work!’

‘Look, brother, I understand that you’re upset. But you can’t blame yourself for everything that happened. You were not the only one at fault. I mean, you were having a hard time and needed some distraction.’

‘But I’m not the one paying for it! Now it’s d’Artagnan and in a couple of years, my son will suffer too. And all because I couldn’t say no to alcohol!’

* * *

_Rain was pouring outside, which was an accurate portrayal of his current mood. He looked down at his hand, the glass in it nearly empty. He waved the bartender over and ordered another glass of wine. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket but ignored it. He did not want to deal with his family, not now. He didn’t want their comforts or their sympathy. He wanted to be left alone._

_‘Looks like someone is drowning their sorrows.’_

_He looked to his right. A beautiful woman had sat down in the chair next to him. Brown curls fell down her shoulders and onto her back. Her green eyes held a mysterious spark._

_‘Go away,’ he grumbled. ‘I’m not looking for company.’_

_‘I never said you were. But you look like you’re in need of a distraction and I happen to be too. Trust me, it will be healthier than trying to drown yourself in wine.’_

_A couple of hours later found him lying in a bed, holding her in his arms. He had to admit, he liked the distraction this woman presented. At the moment, she was toying with his fingers._

_‘You know,’ her sultry voice spoke. ‘You never told me your name.’_

_He lifted her hand and kissed her fingers._

_‘It’s Athos. Now tell me yours.’_

_‘Milady de Winter. Before you ask, no it’s not my real name. For tonight, I’m Milady.’_

_Alcohol made him more compliant than he normally was._

_‘Alright then, Milady. What do you say to another round?’_

_*****_

_‘Please, I beg you!’_

_‘Since when do you want children?’_

_She was right. He had always said that he never wanted children. But now that he knew, now that she carried his child, he couldn’t let her have an abortion. He could not allow her to kill his flesh and blood._

_‘I know I said that I didn’t want to be a father. But you can’t kill our child!’_

_‘We don’t have a child!’_

_‘You’re pregnant! Our son or daughter lives inside you and I cannot simply let him or her die. That child inside of you, it should not have to suffer from our mistakes!’_

_‘I want to stay in the army! I cannot be a mother, Athos! I do not want to be!’_

_‘Then you don’t have to. As soon as it’s born, I will care for it. I will raise the child and you don’t have to do anything. You don’t have to send any money, you don’t have to let it stay with you every once in a while! I will raise the child, I promise. I will pay for all your discomforts, until the child is born.’_

_For a long while, a tense silence reigned. Then finally, Milady looked up at him._

_‘Fine. If you promise to do all that you just said, I will bear the child for you. But it will never, ever, be my child. It won’t know that I exist, understood?’_

_‘If that’s truly what you wish. Just know that you can always change your mind.’_

_******_

_He awoke to the mother of all headaches. With a groan, he got himself up, intending to find some Advil. To his immense surprise, there were already two pills on his nightstand, next to a glass of water. He took them happily and went into the bathroom to splash himself with some cold water._

_As his mind cleared up, he mentally kicked himself. Thomas was probably already awake and in need of food and a clean diaper. And Athos knew for a fact that he had run out of both._

_When he walked into the nursery, he stopped dead in his tracks. The crib was empty. Panic took over and he stormed into the living room, only to find it empty as well._

_‘Thomas!’_

_The kitchen door opened and d’Artagnan stepped into the living room, Thomas in his arms. He smiled sheepishly._

_‘Sorry, I thought you’d be out longer. He was really hungry.’_

_‘What are you doing here?’_

_The smile disappeared at Athos’ angry tone._

_‘Well, I stopped by last night to check on you, only to find Thomas all alone in the apartment, crying his head off because he needed to be changed. I coerced your neighbour into watching him for an hour and then went to look for you. I found you in a bar and dragged your sorry ass home and put you to bed. After making sure Thomas was asleep, I crashed on the couch.’_

_‘I don’t need your help. I can take care of myself.’_

_D’Artagnan scoffed._

_‘Yeah, I can see that. Look, the others might not be here to knock some sense into you, but I am. And right now, I don’t trust you to take care of yourself and your son. So, whether you like it or not, I’m moving in to help you out.’_

_The only reason Athos didn’t hit his brother was because Thomas was in d’Artagnan’s arms._

_‘Get out! I don’t want you here.’_

_‘Well, though luck ‘cause I’m staying! I know you’re upset, you have every right to be. Your biological father died and nine months later, you suddenly have to care for a child you always said you’d never have. I know it’s hard, Athos, but we’re brothers and I’m here for you.’_

_‘What would you know about it?! You never had to deal with something like this, you had it easy!’_

_‘I lost my biological father too. I know that it’s hard.’_

_‘That is not the same thing! Your father never blamed you for your mother and little brother’s death! Your father never got extremely drunk and then hit you until you thought you were gonna die! You had it easy, d’Artagnan!’_

_‘Tais-toi! None of us had it easy, Athos! Yes, I got lucky with my biological father. He was a good man. I’m sorry that yours wasn’t. But I always you thought you wanted to be better than him! You have a chance to prove it and you’re wasting it on your own self-pity!’_

_‘It’s none of your business!’_

_‘We’re family, Athos! That makes it my business. Thomas, my nephew, needs his father! So get a grip and be a father!’_

* * *

‘He shouldn’t have had to do that. I put him through so much, all because I couldn’t deal with it like a normal person.’

‘You were hurting, Athos. You weren’t dealing with the death of your biological father as you should have and d’Artagnan was the only person to recognize that. He was the only one who was able to see through your façade. If anyone is to blame, it’s the rest of us. We should have known you weren’t as okay as you wanted us to believe. But we were all busy with our own lives.’

‘As you should be. You have a family, Aramis and Porthos just started dating someone new. It’s normal for you to be busy with your own lives. I should have come to you, instead of letting d’Artagnan take on that extra burden.’

Aramis gently placed a hand on Athos’ shoulder.

‘Look, what happened with Milady wasn’t your fault. You wanted distraction and that is what she offered. Neither of you planned on having a child. But it happened and you stepped up. She left you all alone, because she wasn’t ready to be a mother. I know you don’t blame her, but don’t blame yourself either. Things just happen, that’s life.’

‘I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, Aramis. d’Art simply refuses to move out, even though I’m really doing better.’

‘Perhaps you should start seeking professional help. I know that you have come a long way already, but it wouldn’t hurt. It might even help. At the very least, it will show the pup that you’re dealing with it all.’

‘You’re probably right, ‘Mis.’

‘And you know, I can talk to Porthos, see if we can draw up a schedule. Make sure we all meet at least once a month. And I’ll have Anne talk with Constance. She has a better grip on the pup than any of us do. We’ll make sure that d’Artagnan knows that it isn’t all his responsibility.’

At that moment, a naked Henry came barrelling into the kitchen and dove behind Aramis’ legs. A soaking wet d’Artagnan appeared seconds later. Aramis promptly started laughing.

‘What in the world happened to you?’

‘I figured I’d give Henry a bath before dinner, because he covered himself in baby powder. Apparently, he didn’t like my idea.’

‘No bath!’ Henry squeaked.

‘Oh no,’ Aramis gasped dramatically. ‘Uncle d’Art tried to give you a bath? Quick, _hijo_ , we have to get to safety!’

He scooped up his giggling son and ran from the kitchen, d’Artagnan hot on his heels.

Athos smiled and made his way to the nursery. Thomas was sleeping peacefully in his crib, unaware of the commotion in the rest of the apartment. Athos gently stroked his son’s cheek with one finger.

Maybe he wasn’t completely okay yet. Perhaps d’Artagnan worries still weren’t completely ungrounded. But Athos was sure Aramis’ suggestions would help.

Thomas turned in his sleep and grasped Athos’ finger. Athos smiled down at his son. Whatever problems surrounded the birth of his son, he wouldn’t give him up for the world. He would be a better father, like Treville. It might be a tough road, but for his son, Athos would try his best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations  
> Hijo: son   
> Tais-tois: shut up


	33. Heroes & Mothers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ages: Athos is 39, Porthos is 37, Aramis 35 and d'Artagnan 29.

‘Alright class, put your books away, I have an important announcement to make.’

Thomas reluctantly put his book away. He tried hard not to scowl, it had just gotten interesting. Sirius Black was Harry Potter’s godfather?! Thomas thought of his own godfather, uncle d’Artagnan. He knew for a fact his godfather would never try to kill him. Although, if that meant he would have magic…

‘Thomas, could you please return to Earth and join us?’

The nine-year old looked up, face heating up with embarrassment. He nodded towards the teacher, who smiled and returned her attention back to the entire class.

‘As you all know, there is a project week coming up. For the fourth and fifth grade, it will be about heroes. Not superheroes like Batman and Captain America, but normal heroes. Can anyone give me an example of a normal hero?’

Thomas excitedly raised his hand, embarrassment forgotten.

‘Yes?’

‘A normal hero is someone like a fireman, or a cop.’

‘Very good, Thomas. Can you explain why they are heroes?’

‘Because they save people! My grandpa is captain of the police force and he once stopped someone from getting killed!’

‘Thank you. Thomas is right, firemen and police officers are indeed normal heroes. They don’t have any superpowers but they save people. Now, the coming week, we will be doing all kinds of assignments, leading up to a big project, that I will tell you more about on Monday.

‘However, for the homework this weekend, I want you to write an essay on what you think makes someone a hero and if you have any heroes in your family. And trust me, you all have one. If you can’t think of anyone, you can ask your parents to help you. Your essay will have to cover one page, however if it’s longer, that is not a problem. I will expect them all on my desk on Monday morning.’

* * *

‘Tommy, over here!’

He looked up and saw Henry waving at him. Thomas quickly said goodbye to his teacher and ran over to join his cousin. The older boy wrapped an arm around him.

‘I just got a text from uncle Porthos, he’s stuck in traffic. Looks like we’ll have to wait.’

They sat down on one of the benches and discussed the project week.

‘Did you get a homework assignment too?’

‘Yeah, we have to write an essay about our definition of a hero and whether we have any in the family.’

Henry wrinkled his nose at him.

‘Have you been reading the dictionary again?’

‘No. Why do you ask?’

‘Because you’re using big words again. You sound like a grown-up. Anyway, I have to write an essay too. But I have to explain why my mom is a hero. Seriously, why couldn’t they ask us to write about our dads? Or even grandpa!’

‘What are you complaining about? Your mother is a senator! You have lots of stuff to write about!’

‘But politics are boring! My dad actually fights crime and saves people.’

Thomas looked away and muttered something. Henry frowned at him.

‘You know I can’t understand you when you mutter.’

‘It’s nothing. You should call uncle Porthos, ask him if he’s almost here yet.’

Henry looked doubtfully at his cousin, but then he dismissed it and pulled out his phone.

* * *

Thomas liked Mondays. Because it meant that he and his cousins got to stay with uncle Porthos. Well, he supposed it wasn’t such a big deal for Susan and Jean, since uncle Porthos was their father. But still, it was awesome.

‘What are you thinking so hard about?’

Thomas startled when he heard the accent tinged voice. He looked up and saw aunt Samara smiling down at him. He smiled back at her.

‘My homework. Do you think it would be bad if Henry and I switched?’

‘Why would you do that?’

‘Well, he’s having trouble with his homework, but I understand it and vice versa. So I though maybe it would be better if we did each other’s homework.’

Aunt Samara frowned.

‘I think you know very well that it won’t help you. If you do it that way, you’ll never learn anything.’

Thomas sighed.

‘I was afraid you were going to say that.’

She laughed and sat down next to him.

‘Perhaps I can help you. Let’s see, what do you have to do?’

They spent the next 15 minutes going over the assignment. When aunt Samara got up to give Serena a bath, Thomas felt like he was going to ace his homework. He was so busy writing, he didn’t even notice Henry flouncing into the kitchen and dropping himself in a chair with all the dramatics his father usually displayed. It was only when his older cousin stole his paper that Thomas looked up.

‘I see you figured it out. That’s great, now help me!’

Before Thomas could retort, a deep chuckle made both boys look towards the door. Their uncle Porthos was standing in the opening, smiling at them.

‘I swear, Henry, you are just like your father.’

Henry grinned at him.

‘That means mankind is lucky to have me living on the same planet as them. Papá told me so.’

Porthos groaned and ruffled Henry’s hair.

‘If there is one thing this world doesn’t need, it’s an Aramis 2.0! So use those brains your mother gave you and deflate your ego a bit.’

Thomas laughed while Henry stuck his tongue out. Porthos sat down next to Henry and peered at the homework assignment.

‘Need any help with that?’

‘Yes, please!’ Henry exclaimed. ‘I don’t understand why I have to write about my mother. My dad is an actual hero!’

Thomas scoffed and Henry glared at him.

‘Stop whining,’ Thomas said. ‘Your mother is a hero too.’

‘What’s your problem?! You got the easy assignment! You have lots of heroes to choose from!’

‘Calm down, Henry, I’m sure Thomas didn’t mean anything by it.’

‘Yes, he did! He gets to write about whoever he chooses and I have to write about my mother!’

‘At least you have a mother to write about!’

Silence reigned in the kitchen after Thomas’ outbursts. The boy was standing up, face red and tears shimmering in his eyes. Porthos shook himself out of his stupor, but before he could reach out to comfort his nephew, the boy fled.

* * *

The moment Aramis entered Porthos’ house, something collided with him at full speed. He looked down and saw his son clinging to him, while sobbing his heart out. Frowning, Aramis carded his hand through the boy’s hair, trying to calm him down. When that didn’t work, he knelt down and held his son at arm’s length.

‘What’s wrong, hijo? Did something happen at school?’

Henry shook his head, sobs shaking his body.

‘Come on, buddy, talk to me. What happened?’

‘I d-didn’t mean to! I’m s-sorry!’

The boy threw his arms around Aramis’ neck and cried into his shoulder. Aramis hugged his son close, rubbing circles on his back.

‘Sssh, it’s okay, hijo. Let it out.’

‘He got into a fight with Thomas.’

Aramis looked up and saw Samara standing in the door opening. He frowned at his sister-in-law.

‘Where is Thomas?’

‘After the fight, he locked himself in our guestroom. Henry tried to apologize but Thomas didn’t want to listen. Porthos is trying to talk to him.’

Aramis nodded and stood up, hoisting Henry into his arms. Samara led the way to the living room, where Aramis sat down on the couch. Susan, Porthos’ and Samara’s oldest, tried to comfort Henry by patting his arm, but the boy shied away. Susan looked up at her mother, hurt in her eyes.

‘Come sweetheart, let’s go the kitchen. You can help me cook dinner.’

After they had disappeared into the kitchen, closing the door behind him, Aramis tried talking to his son once more.

‘What were you and Thomas fighting about?’

Henry looked up, tears streaming down his face and an occasional hiccup escaping him.

‘W-we have to do project for school. A-and it’s about heroes and I h-have to write about mamá. B-but I thought that w-was boring, ‘cause your job is way cooler. A-and t-then Tommy got angry, b-because h-he doesn’t have a mamá to write about. I-I tried to apologize. _Lo siento! Juro que no quería lastimarlo._ ’

‘I know you didn’t want to hurt him. Sometimes we say things without thinking. In fact, I have done so loads of times. And it got me into real big trouble.’

‘Really?’

‘Really. Why do you think mamá gets so angry with me sometimes? It’s because I forget that not everything I think, has to be said.’

‘I bet you never hurt your own family with it, though,’ Henry muttered sadly.

Aramis grimaced.

‘I wish that was true. One time, I think I was about your age, I said something really hurtful to your uncle Porthos. It had been a thoughtless comment, I hadn’t really thought about what I was saying. And though I hadn’t meant to, it really hurt your uncle.’

‘Did he hide too?’

A small laugh escaped Aramis.

‘No, hiding has never been something your uncle would do. Porthos punched me, actually. Gave me a black eye. Trust me when I tell you that our dad was really angry.’

‘But did you apologize?’

‘Yes, although it took some time. I think I would have done it sooner if Porthos hadn’t hit me. I’m proud of you for realizing your mistake and immediately trying to apologize.’

‘I think I wouldn’t have done it if Tommy punched me. I’m glad he didn’t though.’

Aramis nodded.

‘Yes, well, your cousin doesn’t have Porthos’ temper, thank god. Now, what do you say we look at your homework and when Thomas comes down, you try apologizing again?’

* * *

Porthos sighed as he knocked on the door again. He could hear Thomas crying and he wanted to offer the boy some comfort. When he still didn’t get a reaction, he decided enough was enough. Taking the spare key from his pocket, he unlocked the door and walked into the guestroom.

Thomas was sitting on the floor, head buried in his knees, arms wrapped around them. Porthos sat down next to him and wrapped an arm around the boy.

‘Wanna tell me why you’re hiding in my guestroom, instead of making up with your cousin?’

‘I don’t want to talk to him!’

‘Come now, Henry’s really sorry. He didn’t think.’

‘Well, he should have!’

Porthos sighed. He had an inkling of what the real problem was.

‘Thomas, why are you so angry?’

‘It isn’t fair! He has an awesome mom and gets to do an assignment about her and all he does is complain! Aunt Anne is amazing!’

‘While I’m happy that you love your aunt so much, I don’t see the reason to lash out at your cousin like that. Are you sure there’s nothing else?’

For a moment, Thomas said nothing. Then he looked at Porthos with a heart-breaking expression.

‘I want to have a mom too! Dad says I have a mom but that she wasn’t ready to be a mother. Does that mean she doesn’t love me? Wasn’t I good enough for her?’

Porthos hugged the boy close, pushing his anger at Thomas’ mother down.

‘Don’t you ever think that, not even for a second! You are an amazing boy and if anyone should be jealous, it’s your mother. She missed out on having you as her son.’

‘Then why did she leave? Why didn’t she want me?!’

‘I don’t know. I think she really wasn’t ready to be a mother. But that has nothing to do with you, do you hear me?’

‘How can you know that?’

‘Because I used to ask myself the same question. I never knew my biological father. And I would wonder, why did he not stay with my mother and me? Were we not good enough? Was I not good enough? As a child, those thoughts would make me really angry and sad. And then Aramis would talk about his biological father and I would be jealous. Because my biological father had never loved me like that. If he did, then he wouldn’t have left.

‘A few months after your grandfather adopted me, I got scared. I had more than I ever dared hope for after my mother died. And I was absolutely sure that it wouldn’t last. One day, I wouldn’t be good enough anymore and my dad and little brother wouldn’t want me. So I started to distance myself. But then, your grandfather sat me down and asked what was wrong. You know what he told me?’

Thomas shook his head.

‘He told me that would never happen, because I was his son. I was more than good enough. And he said that my biological father was foolish for not realising what he had given up. And that is the same thing I’m telling you now. Okay, you don’t have a mother and that hurts, especially with school projects like these. But you have a father who loves you more than anything in this world. And don’t forget about the rest of your family. We all love you and believe me when I say that we will never, ever leave you.’

Thomas stared at him, a mixture of surprise and love swirling in his eyes. Then, the boy suddenly threw himself forward and hugged Porthos fiercely.

‘I love you too,’ Thomas whispered.

After a few minutes, Porthos detached himself and smiled at his nephew.

‘Now, are you ready to go downstairs and make up with Henry?’

Thomas nodded and they left the room. The moment they got downstairs, Thomas was bowled over by Henry.

‘I’m really sorry, I didn’t meant to hurt you! Please forgive me, I will never be so stupid again.’

‘It’s okay, Henry, I’m not mad anymore. I’m sorry too. Friends again?’

Henry grinned at him.

‘Always. Wanna come to the living room? Uncle d’Art and your dad just arrived. They’re talking to my dad.’

‘Sneak attack?’

‘Do you even have to ask?’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations  
> Lo siento! Juro que no quería lastimarlo: I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hurt him.


	34. No need to say goodbye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: It is advised to keep tissues at hand while reading this. Also, with the corona virus going on, if you've recently lost someone, you might want to skip this chapter.
> 
> Ages: In the first part Athos is 40, Porthos 38, Aramis 36 and d'Artagnan 30. In the second part, Athos is 62, Porthos 60, Aramis 58 and d'Artagnan is 52.

Porthos smiled as he drove into his dad’s street. He could already spy Aramis’ car. Which wasn’t surprising, since Aramis and his family had been staying with Treville since the beginning of Spring break.

‘Daddy! Are we the first?’

‘No, sweetheart, I’m afraid we’re not. Uncle Aramis and his family got here first.’

That elicited a chorus of ‘Uncle Aramis!’. Porthos smiled at his wife, who sent him a laugh in return.

‘It’s unbelievable how much our children love that rascal.’

‘He has a way with children, Samara. Even I can’t deny that.’

Samara chuckled and turned her attention back to the child in her arms. A few minutes later, they were parked next to the curb and getting out of the car. Susan, their oldest, squealed in delight when she noticed the snow.

‘It snowed! Now we can play all day!’

‘Not in your dress,’ Samara said firmly. ‘You’ll have to ask your father to grab the bag with your snow clothes.’

A pout was sent her way, but unlike her husband, Samara was immune.

‘Those puppy eyes won’t work on me. Come, let’s go inside and say hello to your grandfather.’

‘Grandpa!’

The children ran up the porch, leaving their parents to follow. Porthos grinned and wrapped an arm around his wife.

‘We can grab our stuff later. For now, let’s greet the family.’

The front door swung open, revealing a smiling Treville.

‘Porthos! I should have known that ruckus belonged to your children.’

‘I think you’ve got me confused with Aramis. They’re just as terrible as him.’

Out of nowhere, a snowball hit him hard in the back of his head. Porthos whipped around. Aramis was standing opposite of him, another snowball already in his hand. Before he could throw it, Porthos ran forward and tackled him to the ground. A wrestling match of epic proportions ensued.

Samara shook her head at the childish antics and made her way onto the porch. Holding her youngest child in one arm, she hugged Treville.

‘It’s good to see you again, Jean. Happy birthday’

‘Thank you, Samara. It’s been too long. How’s little Tariq doing?’

They stepped inside, where Anne appeared in the hallway and immediately hugged Samara and kissed her on the cheek.

‘It’s so good to see you again. Come, let’s get you to the living room. Henry and the twins are already playing with your children.’

* * *

‘Thanks again for picking us up from the airport, Athos.’

‘It’s no problem, d’Art. Tommy has been bugging me about seeing you and your family non-stop ever since he found out we were all coming together for dad’s birthday.’

‘Dad!’ Thomas whined from the backseat. ‘You’re not supposed to tell them that. It’s not cool.’

Athos chuckled.

‘I’m only stating the facts, son.’

Thomas huffed and returned his attention to the window. Truth be told, he had been very excited when his dad informed him grandpa’s birthday would be spend with the family. Last time he had seen his uncle d’Art and aunt Constance, they had just become parents. Twin boys, Alexandre and Matthew. Thomas was already one hundred percent sure they would be great fun to play with, as soon as they were a little bit older.

He looked up when he heard his father groan and uncle d’Artagnan chuckle. He send a questioning gaze to his aunt Constance, who simply returned a shrug.

‘What’s wrong, dad?’

‘Look at grandpa’s front yard and you’ll see for yourself.’

Filled with curiosity, Thomas leaned forward and promptly burst out laughing. On the ground, wrestling, were uncle Porthos and Aramis. He heard his father mumble something about ‘perpetual children’ under his breath. Uncle d’Artagnan clapped him on the shoulder.

‘Lighten up, Athos. At least Aramis isn’t singing _Last Christmas_.’

‘He’d better not be. Christmas was months ago.’

As soon as his father had parked the car, Thomas dove out the car and sprinted towards the front door. He pounded on it in excitement. The door swung open and revealed his older cousin, Henry.

‘Tommy!’

The two hugged each other. When they let go, Henry started pulling him inside.

‘Come on, we need to work on the surprise for grandpa!’

They stormed inside, ignoring the shouts coming from the living room and the front door slamming shut.

* * *

Treville smiled contentedly as he sat in the living room, surrounded by his sons and their families. When Alexa had her first miscarriage, Treville would never have dared to believe he would one day be blessed with four sons and ten grandchildren.

Aramis had three children, one son and two daughters. Henry had his father’s looks and was just as witty. Elena and Catherina, twins, took after their mother, both in intelligence and looks. All three were fluent in English and Spanish, as Aramis and Anne had decided to raise their children bilingual.

Athos had only one child, his son, Thomas. The boy was closes to Henry, since they were only a year apart. It was uncanny how much Thomas looked and acted like his father. If Treville didn’t know any better, he’d say Athos got himself cloned.

Porthos, for god’s sake, had four children. Two girls and two boys. They were all named after Samara and Porthos’ parents. When their first son and second child was born, Treville had been touched when they told him the boy’s name was Jean. Their oldest child has been named after Porthos’ mother, Susan. After Jean, Serena had been born and then Tariq. Susan and Jean were rambunctious children with a short temper. Serena was a shy toddler, fiercely protected by her older siblings. Tariq had just turned two and was, according to Porthos, a mischievous little bugger.

And then there was d’Artagnan, his youngest son. Almost a year ago, he had become a father to identical twin boys, Alexandre and Matthew. They had inherited d’Artagnan’s tan skin and dark hair, but Constance’s curls and blue eyes. According to the parents, Matthew was a mommy’s boy, while Alexandre was usually seen close to his father.

Yes, Treville truly considered himself blessed. He loved his sons, their wives and his grandchildren. And they loved him in return.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when Henry and Thomas came storming back into the living room. The latter was hiding something behind his back, while the former announced with his usual dramatics that they all had to be quiet now. The parents smiled and leaned back in their seats, while Susan, Jean, Serena, Elena and Catherina went to stand behind the oldest two grandchildren. Thomas turned to Treville with a big grin.

‘Grandpa, today’s your birthday. We wanted to give you this earlier, but we had to wait until uncle d’Artagnan had children too, otherwise it wouldn’t be complete.’

Henry took over.

‘As you know, we all love you very much and we think you’re the greatest grandpa in the whole world! So me and Tommy, the brains in the family…’

He was cut off by an indignant exclamation behind him, but he waved them off and continued.

‘Sorry, small correction. Me and Tommy got together because we’re the oldest and best friends. And we decided that while it’s cool that our parents got you gifts, we wanted to give you something too.’

‘All of us contributed to it,’ Thomas added. ‘Our parents too. Henry and I collected everything and made this for you. Happy birthday grandpa.’

He handed Treville a big book. On the cover, it read _Grandpa’s scrapbook_. Treville opened it and smiled. The pages were filled with pictures, drawings and stuff his sons and grandchildren had made over the years. The first page contained a big picture of their entire family, surrounded by everyone’s names. The second and third page were littered with handprints in blue paint. As he looked through the book, tears gathered in Treville’s eyes. He blinked them away and turned his attention back to the group of children before him.

‘This is one of the most amazing gifts anyone’s ever given me. Thank you.’

He leaned forward and hugged all of them.

* * *

**22 years later**

Treville smiled as he got into his bed. Yesterday, he had celebrated his 85th birthday. Everyone had made it, which had meant that there were a lot of people. He wouldn’t have had it any other way though.

Aramis and Anne had been there, of course, as had their children. All three of them had left the house. Henry was married and expecting a child. He worked as a Spanish teacher at a high-school. Elena had brought her girlfriend, a lovely woman named Amelia. They ran a company together and were hoping to branch out soon. Catherina and her fiancée, Damien, had come, with their little boy, Alejandro. Catherina was working her way up the political ladder, aspiring to be like her mother.

Athos and Thomas had shown up together. 30 years ago, after d’Artagnan had graduated from MIT, Athos had set up a security company with his brothers. At 62, Athos was looking to lessen his workload. Thomas was eager to take over the company after his father retired and so Athos was working him in.

Porthos and Samara had been the last to arrive, having just come back from visiting Morocco. Susan, their oldest, had picked them up from the airport. She worked as a journalist for the New York Times. Jean had brought his foster son, Evan. Jean worked as a social worker and often took in the kids that no one else wanted to foster. Serena had brought her boyfriend, Tony. She was working on her second book. Her first one had been published recently and was quite successful. Tariq had recently started working at a new school as a kindergarten teacher.

D’Artagnan and Constance had arrived a few minutes before Porthos and Samara. They had to pick up Alexandre and Matthew from the airport. They were both working on getting a master’s degree, Alex in Engineering at MIT and Matt in Music at Juilliard. Alex already knew that he wanted to work with Thomas in the company of their dads and uncles after getting his Master degree. Matt dreamed of performing in the Wiener Musikverein someday.

Treville was proud of all his children and grandchildren. They had accomplished so much. His thoughts drifted towards his collection of scrapbooks. Every ten years, he got a new one. It allowed him to see how his family grew up and gave him all the more reasons to love them.

He would always be the most proud of his four sons, though. They had gone through so much horrors when they were young, yet they pushed through and persevered. They didn’t let it affect them. All of them graduated from college, created their own family and excelled in their careers. And still they found time for him, their father. Often, one of them would stop by, unannounced and spend the day with him.

Treville sighed in contentment. He couldn’t have loved them more if they were his biological sons. Not that that mattered. To him, they were his sons in flesh and blood. And he would always love them.

* * *

Aramis stared at the crowd in front of him. On the first row, his brothers were seated. He took a deep breath.

‘We are gathered here today, to say goodbye to my father, Jean Treville. He was a great man and I’m happy to see that so many people came to pay their respects to him. I lost my biological father when I was three years old. For two years, I lived in an orphanage. Nobody wanted to adopt a boy who spoke better Spanish than English. But then, when I was five, my dad and his late wife, Alexa, arrived. They didn’t care that my English was bad or that I was traumatized. They loved me and gave me a family. I felt loved again.

‘When Alexa died a few months later, my dad was really there for me. We healed together. Over the years, I gained three brothers. I have always admired my dad for adopting three more boys after his wife died. Nobody would have blamed him if he didn’t. On his own, he raised four sons who caused him lots of trouble. When I had children myself, I called him almost weekly for advice on how to be a father. And he was always ready to give it. He took care of my wife when she first got pregnant and I was still in the army. He gave us the crib he and Alexa made themselves when they were first expecting. I know that my father was not a religious man. But with all the good he has done in this world, I am certain he is now in heaven, reunited with his beloved Alexa and watching over us.’

Aramis walked back to his chair, forcing his tears back. Porthos clapped him on the shoulder and went to the stand.

‘I am not a man of words. My speech is not going to be as beautiful as Aramis’. But then again, dad knew that and never really cared. Just as he didn’t care that I had anger management problems when he first took me in. I was not an easy boy to deal with. Trusting adults was a foreign concept to me, had been since my mother died. Dad knew and accepted that. He showed me through his actions that he really loved me and that I could always trust him. When I lost my temper, he didn’t get mad. He talked with me and let me realise where it went wrong, myself. I was not good in school. I often came home with bad grades. But he was never disappointed or angry. He sat me down and helped me do my homework and prepare for tests. He would stay up late to find ways to make it easier for me.

‘He knew how much I loved sports, so when he first adopted me, he found all sorts of sport teams for me to join. He came to every single game to support me. If he had time, he would practice with me in the backyard. Jean Treville was the only father I’ve ever known and I couldn’t have wished for a better one.’

Porthos sat down next to Aramis. Athos got up and gripped the sides of the stand slightly. He looked at his brothers. Porthos had his arm wrapped around Aramis, tears shining in his eyes. Aramis’ had already lost the battle of keeping his tears at bay and they streamed down his face. D’Artagnan’s face was blank, reminding Athos of all those years ago, when their dad had been shot.

‘When Jean Treville adopted me, I came from a broken family. I had lost my mother and younger brother. My biological father had turned to alcohol. For two years, I had almost completely forgotten what it felt like to be loved. I had never known what it felt like to have a father who would not always neglect or abuse me. But when I was nine, Jean Treville saved me from my abusive father and took me in. He knew I needed time and he gave me that. After realising that I wanted to be part of a family again, he welcomed me with open arms. From that moment on, I had the best childhood I could ever have wished for. My dad loved me, cared for me and did stuff with me. For me, Jean Treville will always be my only father.

‘He was there for me when Thomas was born and I realised I needed professional help. He took my son in for a few months, so I could get my life back on track. And during all that, he never once judged me. He understood and offered to help. I will always be eternally grateful that he decided to adopt me. If heaven does exist, I really hope he is there now, happily reunited with his wife. Thank you, dad, for everything you gave me and for all the love you showed me.’

D’Artagnan was the last one to give his speech. For a few moments, he just stood there, trying to push his tears back. He met his brothers’ eyes and they nodded at him.

‘My biological father, Alexandre Demay, had been best friends with Jean Treville all his life. I lost my mother when I was 2 and my father a year later. I ended up in the orphanage for a while, until someone found out my parents had appointed Jean Treville as my godfather. He was supposed to take care of me if something ever happened to my parents. And he did that with so much love. He couldn’t have loved me more if I had been his own. My brothers and I never lacked for anything. A few years ago, our dad told us he felt blessed for having four sons and ten grandchildren. But I think we were the blessed ones. We had him as a father, our children had him as a grandfather.

‘I have always considered my dad to be hero. He was captain of the police force and saved many lives. He kept our town safe and never lost his cool. His colleagues told us that they have only ever seen him panic once, which was when there was a shooting reported in my high-school. But that’s not the only reason I consider him a hero. As you’ve already heard my brothers tell, he was a single father who already had one son when his wife died and then adopted three more. It can’t have been easy, but he did it anyways. And he did a great job too. He was always patient, knew what we needed and showed us in many ways that he loved us. We know that he was always proud of us, regardless of all the times we did something stupid. Our father will be missed, by all of us.’

The four of them stood together as the coffin was lowered into the ground. After everyone had gone inside, they stood by the grave, gazing at the headstone silently.

_Here lies Jean Treville, beloved husband, father and grandfather. He was a hero and a great man._

‘He’ll be happy,’ Aramis said. ‘Buried right next to mom, just like they wanted.’

‘I can’t believe he’s gone,’ Athos said. ‘It feels like he’ll be inside, waiting and scolding us for standing outside so long in the cold without a jacket.’

Porthos chuckled weakly at that.

‘Yeah, I can picture that. Who knows, maybe he’s up there in heaven, scolding us but we just can’t hear him.’

A sob escaped d’Artagnan. Athos wrapped a comforting arm around him.

‘He died painlessly, d’Art, after living a full and happy life.’

‘I know,’ d’Artagnan’s voice sounded coarse. ‘It’s just that I’ll never get to see him again.’

‘Nonsense, pup,’ Aramis said. ‘Remember what I told you when you were five? We’ll see him again in heaven. I promise you.’

D’Artagnan nodded, voice choking on tears.

‘It’s alright, little brother,’ Porthos said. ‘We’ll stay out here a while, say our final goodbyes. We’re going to take all the time we need.’

The four brothers stood there for a long while, arms wrapped around each other. And whether they imagined it or not, it felt like their father was gazing down on them, smiling proudly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't kill me?


	35. These small hours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ages: Athos is 77, Porthos 75, Aramis 73 and d'Artagnan is 67.

It was a lovely day. Sunlight showered the world in a warm golden hue and making it very warm. A slight breeze was in the air, enough to cool the people who decided to enjoy the beautiful weather and go outside.

Athos was one of these people. He was meeting up with his brothers and their wives for a picnic. To his irritation, he was the last one to arrive. The others were already there, sitting under a big old oak tree. He was greeted with laughter.

‘I never thought I’d live to see the day,’ Porthos joked. ‘Athos being late.’

‘Shut up,’ Athos grumbled good-naturedly. ‘The traffic was bad.’

He sat down next to Samara, who handed him a sandwich and a glass of homemade lemonade.

‘Well, you’re here and that’s what matters,’ she said.

Athos raised his glass, the others doing the same.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, to the 100th birthday of Jean Treville!’

They clinked their glasses together and took a sip. After a few minutes of eating, Constance turned to Aramis.

‘Say, you were about to tell a story before Athos arrived. Are you going to continue?’

‘I was hoping you’d forgotten about that.’ Aramis muttered.

‘What story?’ Athos asked.

Porthos and d’Artagnan grinned at him.

‘The story about how Aramis got banned from the kitchen.’

Athos burst out in laughter.

‘Oh, I remember that. Well, Constance, let me tell you the story.’

* * *

_7-year old Aramis was bored. He had already watched his favourite cartoons, read his newest comic and played with his toys. What he wanted to do was play with his older brothers, but Porthos was at football training and Athos was busy with homework. Dad wasn’t home either, since he had gone with Porthos to his training._

_His tummy rumbled and suddenly, Aramis was struck with a brilliant idea. He could make dinner! He was hungry and it was almost dinnertime anyway. Besides, he had helped dad plenty of times with cooking. How hard could it be?_

_In the kitchen, he looked at the board. Dad always wrote down what they would have for dinner and today, they were supposed to eat green bean casserole. Aramis shuddered at that. He hated veggies. Well then, he would come up with something himself._

_He looked into the fridge to see what he could find. To his horror, it was mostly vegetables. But then he spotted some eggs and a packet of bacon. He could make omelettes. Or even better, pancakes! Leaving the bacon, he carried the eggs to the counter, then returned to grab a carton of milk._

_Staring up at the counter, Aramis wondered what else he would need. Maybe a recipe book? Then he knew for sure what he would need._

_About 10 minutes later, he had everything the recipe said he needed. He had climbed onto the counter, so that he could reach everything. Then he encountered another problem. The instructions in the recipe were really complicated. Oh well, no matter then. He’d just wing it._

_Half an hour later found Aramis very pleased with himself. The pancake batter was done, the frying pan was buttered and ready to finish the pancakes. Deciding he didn’t want to stand on the stove, Aramis had dragged a stool over so that he could reach everything._

_Now, to turn it on. It would probably have to be really hot, otherwise he couldn’t make the pancakes. He lifted the pan onto the stove, turned it on and then poured the first batch of batter in it._

_A spatula! He was gonna need one to flip the pancakes. Hopping of the stool, he ran to the rack where dad kept the cooking stuff and then returned triumphantly with the spatula. Just as he returned, Aramis’ bladder made himself known. Dropping the spatula, Aramis ran out of the kitchen._

_Athos frowned at the odd smell that drifted upstairs. It smelled like something was burning. But that wasn’t possible. Dad wasn’t back yet and even if he was, the man never burned dinner. Suddenly, a scream rang through the house._

_Without thinking, Athos spurted downstairs. He had to protect Aramis! He burst into the kitchen, where he was greeted with the sight of a burning stove and his little brother throwing water at it. Athos grabbed Aramis by the back of his shirt and yanked him into the hallway._

_‘Get the fire extinguisher, now!’_

_Aramis ran away and came back a second later, carrying the extinguisher. Athos snatched it and went back into the kitchen, aiming at the stove and squeezing the handle._

_‘WHAT THE HELL IS GOING HERE?!’_

_Never before had Athos been so happy to hear his dad’s voice. The extinguisher was pulled out of his hands and he was shoved into the hallway. There he found Porthos hugging Aramis, the latter bawling his eyes out. Athos joined the hug, trying to comfort his youngest brother._

_Two hours later, they were all in the living room and Athos was pretty sure that steam was coming out of his dad’s ears._

_‘What were you thinking, Aramis?’_

_‘I’m sorry,’ the boy sniffled. ‘I was hungry and I wanted to make dinner.’_

_‘You know perfectly well that you’re not allowed to cook without me! You are lucky Athos was home, or the whole house would have burned down!’_

_‘I’m sorry!’ Aramis wailed. ‘I didn’t mean to!’_

_‘I am very disappointed in you and also very angry. I want you to go to your room this instant and I don’t want to hear a peep from you until I come and fetch you. Understood?’_

_‘Yes, sir.’_

_Aramis silently fled the room. Porthos and Athos stared at each other, then quietly retreated to a corner, trying their hardest to avoid their dad. They had never, ever, seen him so angry._

* * *

‘Aramis hasn’t been allowed to touch the stove since. Of course, our dad calmed down after an hour or so and he went to talk to Aramis. I believe you were punished quite severely, weren’t you?’

Aramis glared darkly at the ground.

‘It’s the worst punishment I’ve had in my entire life. I don’t understand how you three can laugh about it.’

‘We couldn’t, at first,’ Porthos said. ‘But a few years later, when d’Artagnan came to live with us, we told him the story and he laughed. Eventually, we began to see the humour.’

‘Thanks a lot, pup,’ Aramis grumbled.

‘First of all, I’m not a pup. Second, I was five and you had just been bragging that you could cook absolutely everything. It was funny to me.’

‘You know,’ Anne piped up. ‘I’ve always wondered, why do you call d’Artagnan a pup?’

Aramis smiled, his mood instantly lifted. D’Artagnan groaned.

‘It’s because he’s so puppy like. Especially when he was little. The nickname just stuck.’

‘Yeah, I remember,’ Porthos chuckled. ‘Once he learned to trust us, he was always following us around, eager to please and tripping over himself.’

‘You could almost see a tail wagging behind him when we played with a ball. I think Aramis even taught him how to fetch.’

D’Artagnan’s face became red with embarrassment while his brothers laughed.

‘Now I understand why your dad bought Ethan. He must have thought you were lonely after those three dogs left the nest.’

The three in question protested indignantly, while d’Artagnan smiled fondly at Constance.

‘I loved that dog. Losing him was one of the hardest days in my life.’

* * *

_‘Can you say daddy, Alex? Come on, buddy, say it.’_

_‘Don’t listen to him, sweetheart. You’re going to say mommy first, aren’t you?’_

_‘Constance, you have already turned Matt into a mama’s boy. Let me at least try to save Alex.’_

_He was punched in the arm as retaliation. Before d’Artagnan could respond to it, the phone rang._

_‘I’ll take it. You continue feeding the boys, I’ll be back in a sec.’_

_Constance waved him off and he walked down the hall to grab the phone. He checked the number smiled._

_‘Hey dad, how’s it going? Everything okay?’_

_‘_ d’Artagnan, I’ve just been to the vet. Son, I don’t know how to tell you this. Ethan…he’s sick…and they can’t help him anymore. He’s too old. I’m sorry. _’_

_‘I-is he g-gone?’_

_‘_ No, not yet. They’re going to put him down tomorrow. So, if you want to say goodbye, now’s the time. _’_

_‘I’ll be there soon. Bye, dad.’_

_He hung up and sank into a chair. He knew Ethan was old, but somehow, it hadn’t occurred to him that his dog would die. Perhaps, his heart held the childish hope that Ethan would live forever, however silly that might be._

_Constance walked in after a few minutes. She took one look at him and grabbed his hands._

_‘What’s wrong?’_

_‘It’s Ethan. He’s sick. They’re putting him down tomorrow.’_

_‘Oh, d’Art, I’m so sorry. Do you want me to come with you?’_

_‘No, that’s okay. I’ll stay with dad for a few days.’_

_‘Of course. Say goodbye to Ethan for me?’_

_‘I will.’_

_When d’Artagnan arrived at his childhood home, his dad was waiting for him on the front porch. They embraced and went inside. D’Artagnan’s heart broke when he saw Ethan lying on his dog bed, clearly in pain. But when d’Artagnan sat down next to him, the dog lifted his head and his tail wagged ever so slowly._

_‘Hey, boy. You’re not doing so good, I hear. But that’s okay. All the pain will end tomorrow, I promise.’_

_Ethan placed his head on d’Artagnan’s thigh and licked his hand. Tears pricked in d’Artagnan’s eyes and he gently hugged the dog._

_‘Yeah, I love you too. And Constance told me to tell you she said goodbye. We’re all going to miss you.’_

_The next day, d’Artagnan sat in the backseat with Ethan, while his dad drove to the veterinarian. Ethan had his eyes closed, clearly tired and in pain. D’Artagnan scratched him behind the ears._

_‘It’s okay boy, we’re almost there. It will all be over soon.’_

_When Ethan was lying on the table, d’Artagnan couldn’t hold back his tears anymore. He buried his face in the soft fur one last time._

_‘I love you boy. You are the best dog I could ever wish for, okay?’_

_As the last shot was administered and Ethan stopped breathing, d’Artagnan cried into his dad’s shoulder._

* * *

‘I’m still sorry we weren’t there that day,’ Athos said. ‘He was a good dog.’

D’Artagnan nodded.

‘I still miss him. But it was the best choice for him. It wouldn’t have been fair to keep him in pain, just because I couldn’t say goodbye.’

Constance wrapped an arm around him.

‘You’re right. And it got easier over time, didn’t it? Ethan has his own picture place in our house.’

‘I always wonder, doesn’t your current dog ever get jealous?’

D’Artagnan laughed.

‘Bailey jealous? No way! If anything, I think he likes the picture.’

They spent a few more hours talking about everything that came to mind. When they all went home, the sun was low and twilight had begun to take over the air. Every year, on their dad’s birthday, Athos, Porthos, Aramis and d’Artagnan came together. Sometimes, their wives came along. They usually spend the day reminiscing about their childhood, exchanging stories about parenthood and honouring their father.

They kept the tradition going for 27 more years. As time went on, it was not just in honour of their father anymore. It was in honour of the family they grew up in.


	36. It goes on

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It goes on and on  
> Bound to forever, even when we're gone  
> It goes on and on  
> We'll be together at the rising of the dawn

‘Grandpapa, look! Mommy is here!’

‘I see, Cate. Go open the door for her.’

The little girl sprinted down the hall to greet her mother. D’Artagnan smiled as her rambling drifted back to him. His great-granddaughter reminded him so much of Aramis sometimes.

Cate and her mother appeared in the room. While Cate wandered over to the coffee table, d’Artagnan got up to greet her mother.

‘I hope Catherine wasn’t too much trouble.’

‘Nonsense. We had a great time, didn’t we, sweetheart?’

Cate nodded vigorously at the question and returned her attention to whatever she was searching for.

‘I didn’t doubt that you would. But you are a hundred years old and I know my daughter can be a little much sometimes.’

‘Marie, if I couldn’t have handled it, I wouldn’t have invited her to stay with me for a week. Trust me, I’m fine.’

She smiled in him.

‘Okay, I believe you. Just wanted to make sure. Cate is such an energetic child.’

‘It’s one of the reasons I love her.’

At that moment, the girl in question worked herself between them, brandishing an picture album she and d’Artagnan had been looking at earlier.

‘Look, mommy! I wanna show you pictures!’

The three of them sat down on the couch. Cate opened the book and pointed at each picture, reciting the explanations d’Artagnan had given her earlier.

‘And this is grandpa Alex with grandmama Constance. Grandpapa says I have her hair! Oh, and that is uncle Matt with his dog. His name is Ethan!’

Eventually they came to some very old pictures. Cate stared in confusion at the four boys smiling at her, snowboards in their hands.

‘Who are they, grandpapa?’

D’Artagnan smiled.

‘That’s me with my brothers, when I went snowboarding for the first time.’

‘You have brothers?! Why don’t I know them?!’

Marie opened her mouth to silence Cate, knowing it was touchy subject for her grandfather. But d’Artagnan pushed his sadness away and answered Cate’s question.

‘They passed away before you were born. Just like grandmama Constance. You would have loved them though. The one with blue eyes, that’s my oldest brother Athos. Porthos was the second oldest, he’s the boy with black curls. The boy standing next to him is Aramis, he was my youngest older brother.’

Cate pointed at the only boy left unmentioned.

‘Is that you?’

‘Yeah, that’s me. I was the youngest.’

‘How old were you?’

‘I was about 8, I think.’

‘Wow! Is this picture from the Middle Ages?’

D’Artagnan burst out laughing. Marie looked at her daughter aghast.

‘Catherine, that’s not a nice thing to say!’

‘It’s alright, Marie,’ d’Artagnan chuckled. ‘Although I have to say, Cate, I’m not that old. But I suppose it is a pretty old picture.’

Cate looked up at him through her eyelashes.

‘Not mad?’

‘Of course not. In fact, you remind me of Aramis. He was much the same.’

‘Really?!’

‘Really. He would have loved you.’

‘I think I like him too. But I love you the most!’

She jumped into his lap and wrapped her arms around his middle. D’Artagnan hugged her close.

‘I love you too, sweetheart.’

Later that evening, after Cate and her mother had left, d’Artagnan tiredly sat down in his chair. He hadn’t realised it before, but it had been a tiring week. Not that he minded. It was lonely when he was the only person in the house.

He reached out his hand and grabbed the picture album. D’Artagnan smiled as he looked through it. There were many pictures of his children, grandchildren and great-grandchild in the album. So many fond memories. The joy of being part of such a loving family.

Then d’Artagnan reached the older pictures and his sadness made itself known again. A picture of the last time he and his brothers had all been together. Already it was 20 years ago. His hand trembled slightly. 20 years since he had last spoken with Athos. Dear Lord, how he missed his brothers. Aramis had been with him the longest, but even he had died 11 years ago.

He came across another picture and he couldn’t stop a tear from falling down. A young Constance smiled up at him, the arms of his younger self wrapped around her. She was laughing at something he was whispering in her ear. D’Artagnan remembered that day. It was 80 years ago but he remembered it vividly. He had proposed to Constance that day. At just 20 years old, many people had said they were too young and should wait a few more years. But d’Artagnan had known for sure. Constance was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. The woman he wanted to grow old with.

And they had. Age had changed them, of course it had. But one thing time had never been able to touch. Constance’s beautiful eyes had always kept their joyful twinkle. Even on the day she died. He had held her hand, not wanting to say goodbye. But in the end, he was forced to do so. She had passed away at the age of 90. He had lost his wife only one year after he lost Aramis. That had been a hard blow. For the first time in 87 years, d’Artagnan had felt truly and utterly alone.

But then, Marie, his granddaughter, informed him she was pregnant. And when little Catherine was born, d’Artagnan had found a reason to be happy again. While he could honestly say he loved all of his descendants, he and Cate had a special bond. They would build pillow forts and then spent hours in there, waging war on anyone who dared enter their kingdom uninvited. Or they would sit on the couch and come up with all sorts of stories, which d’Artagnan was of course commanded to write down so they wouldn’t forget them.

Another picture, even older, caused him to smile again. It had always been one of his favourites. When he had turned sixteen, his brothers had decided to surprise him by baking a birthday cake, instead of buying one. Something had gone horribly wrong and the cake had exploded right into their faces, after they pulled it out of the oven. Nobody had ever found what exactly the three had done wrong. The picture had been made by their father without d’Artagnan’s brothers being aware of it. Athos was busy shouting at Aramis, Porthos was glaring at the oven and Aramis was smiling innocently at Athos, which made d’Artagnan suspect that his brother had had something to do with the explosion.

On the last page of the album was the earliest picture that included d’Artagnan. He couldn’t remember who had taken it, since their father was in it too. Shortly after d’Artagnan had been adopted, dad had announced that it was time for a new family picture, since their newest addition had to be in it. Athos and Porthos were standing on either side of their dad, his arms around them. Aramis and d’Artagnan were standing in front of them, arms around each other. They were standing in front of their home, all of them grinning at the camera.

D’Artagnan sighed sadly. Now that Cate was gone, he felt lonely again. His heart ached and his body felt tired to the bone. Putting the book back on the coffee table, d’Artagnan leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

In his mind, he walked through his childhood home again. He could clearly see the living room, filled with pictures and toys. The kitchen, where it always smelled like food and where you could always see muddy shoe tracks. The bedroom he had shared with Athos, always neatly kept because Athos insisted that a tidy room meant a tidy mind. Porthos’ and Aramis’ room, where the floor was always littered with dirty laundry, toys and other stuff.

As his mind drifted off further and further, d’Artagnan’s heartbeat slowed.

* * *

D’Artagnan blinked. Sunlight was shining on his face, warming him. He had probably fallen asleep in his chair again. But, why was he lying in a bed then? Perhaps one of his sons had stopped by, Matthew probably, found him and moved him to a more comfortable place to sleep.

A soft hand touched his cheek and the familiar smell of flowers filled his nostrils. No! It couldn’t be! Could it?

Slowly, d’Artagnan turned his head, fearing that it was just a cruel trick of his mind. But there she was, smiling at him.

‘Constance,’ he whispered hoarsely.

She looked absolutely beautiful. There was not a single trace of old age. Her lustrous red curls were thrown over one shoulder and her blue eyes radiated happiness. If d’Artagnan had to guess, he would put her around 20, max.

Suddenly, a wild need to touch her overcame him. He had to feel her again. He bolted upright and embraced Constance, pulling her close against him. A joyous laugh broke from his lips when he realised that he could actually touch his wife, without her disappearing.

‘I’ve missed you so much. These years without you were lonely.’

‘I know,’ she whispered. ‘I’ve missed you too. It was so hard for me to leave you behind. But we’re together now. I love you.’

‘Right back at you.’

A long time passed before they were ready to let go again and then still they kept their hands intertwined. D’Artagnan looked around him and frowned.

‘Where are we?’

Constance laughed and oh, how he had missed that sound.

‘Don’t you recognize your own room?’

She was right, this was his and Athos’ old bedroom. By the window were the desks they did their homework at. In the far corner was his toy box. Across from him was the closet with the doors they had decorated. On his left was the bookshelf, the books catalogued on language and in alphabetical order. And of course, on his right, the door to the bathroom.

‘Yeah, I recognize it.’

Constance smiled at him.

‘Ready to go downstairs?’

As they went, d’Artagnan caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and took a double take. He was young again, about the same age as Constance! His hair was no longer grey but black, almost reaching his shoulders. There wasn’t a trace of wrinkles and the muscles he had gained as a young man had returned.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, voices drifted from the kitchen into the hallway. One voice in particular stood out to d’Artagnan and suddenly, he couldn’t contain himself. It had been 48 years since he last heard that voice.

Letting go of Constance, he all but ran into the kitchen. And there he was, his father, leaning against the counter and laughing at something that had just been said.

‘Dad!’

Treville had a few seconds to brace himself and then d’Artagnan collided with him. He smiled and wrapped his arms around his youngest, hugging the boy close. No words came from d’Artagnan, just sobs.

As he had done when his youngest had been little, Treville soothingly carded his hand through the boy’s hair. And it still had the same effect, for d’Artagnan slowly calmed down. Finally, he let go and smiled.

‘It’s good to see you again, dad. I’ve really missed you.’

‘Me too. You and your brothers. But I am proud of you four. You’ve achieved so much in life. I am proud to be your dad.’

A choked sound turned their attention to the kitchen table. A young couple who had been sitting when d’Artagnan entered, were now standing. The woman had tears streaming down her face and was holding her husband’s hand tightly.

Treville smiled and stepped aside.

‘I think these people deserve your attention more than I do. After all, they had to wait much longer to see you again.’

‘ _Maman? Papa?_ ’

The woman opened her arms and d’Artagnan flew into her embrace.

‘ _Oh, d’Artagnan. Mon petit garçon._ ’

D’Artagnan felt strong arms wrap around them both and looked up. His _papa_ was smiling down at him, tears gleaming in his eyes.

‘We are so proud of you son. You grew up to be a great man. I’m sorry we weren’t there to see you grow up. I’m sorry we had to miss all your baseball games and fencing matches. That we weren’t there to embarrass you when you graduated. That I wasn’t the one to give you your first car. But most of all, we’re sorry that we left you so early. Can you forgive us?’

‘Of course I can, _papa_. I love you. Not a day went by that I did not at least think of you. And I want to thank you.’

‘For what?’

‘For appointing Jean Treville as my godfather. Thanks to him, I had a great childhood and all the opportunities I needed. Because you chose him as my guardian, I grew up with three amazing brothers. So thank you, for leaving me in the care of a good man.’

His parents simply hugged him tight. Then, Alexandre looked up and motioned for Treville to join their hug. He did so happily. For a while, d’Artagnan simply refused to let go. He had been denied his _maman_ and _papa_ for so long, that he wanted to feel their touch again for as long as he could.

Eventually though, his dad made him let go. Wrapping an arm around him, he steered d’Artagnan to the back door.

‘There’s something I want to show you.’

When they stepped onto the porch, an excited bark sounded through the air. D’Artagnan looked around for the source and beamed when he saw a German Sheppard bounding towards him.

‘Ethan!’

The moment he reached the dog, he knelt down and buried his face in the fur. It was just as soft as he remembered. Ethan was nuzzling his head into d’Artagnan’s shoulder.

‘Good boy, Ethan.’

‘Well, that’s just insulting, isn’t it? Our own brother, greeting his dog before us!’

D’Artagnan stiffened at the voice. This had to be a dream, his mind playing a cruel trick on him. He knew for sure, that if he looked towards the owner of the voice, it would all disappear and he would wake up, lonely in his home, left behind by his family.

‘It’s not that weird, ‘Mis. He is a pup, after all.’

Please God, let this not be a dream. He had been without his brothers long enough, hadn’t he?

‘Aren’t you going to greet us, little brother?’

‘Why? I don’t want this dream to end. You’ll disappear if I look up.’

He heard a sigh and then someone was crouching beside him, a strong hand on his shoulder.

‘We won’t, d’Art.’

‘Promise?’

He felt like a little kid for asking that, but he didn’t want to be left behind again.

‘I promise, pup. Now come on, I think Aramis will throw a temper tantrum if you ignore him any longer.’

A chuckle escaped d’Artagnan. He looked up, into blue eyes that were blazing with love and happiness.

‘Athos!’

He dove onto his oldest brother, like he used to do when he was a little kid. Somewhere behind them, Aramis spluttered indignantly.

‘This is ridiculous! Why does Athos get the first hug?!’

‘Aramis, quit whining and let’s join the hug.’

Soon enough, two more bodies were joining the pile. The familiar scents flooded d’Artagnan’s nose and he inhaled deeply. For a while, everything was a blur. There was laughter and tears, the latter on d’Artagnan’s part. Then, when they had calmed down, stories were exchanged, questions were answered and old jokes were told again.

At the end of the day, when the sun was beginning to set, the four brothers were sitting on the front porch, beers in hand. There was a comfortable silence between them as they watched the sunset.

All of them had lived a full and happy life. Sure, there had been ups and downs, a few regrets here and there. But they had always been able to count on each other. The bond between them was special. They were always there for each other. Had each other’s backs, even when it hurt. By blood, they might not have been brothers, but they were a family. They were the definition of brotherhood.

Athos raised his beer, the other three copying him.

‘All for one.’

‘And one for all!’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank you all for joining me and the boys on this ride. Thank you to those who were new to this fic and those who re-read it after following it on FF. This ending was inspired by the Titanic, so I'll leave it up to you whether it's a dream or if d'Artagnan joined his family in the afterlife. Goodbye and until the next story!

**Author's Note:**

> Translations.   
> Bonjour. Je m’appelle Athos. Comment tu t’appelles?= Hello. My name is Athos. What's yours?  
> Je m’appelle d’Artagnan.= My name is d'Artagnan.   
> Tu parles Anglais?= Do you speak English?  
> Oui. Mais Français est moins effrayant.= Yes. But French is less scary.


End file.
